


Paper Flowers

by pure1magination



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Almost Kiss, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Betrayal, Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic Fluff, Falling In Love, Feelings Realization, Guilt, Impersonation, Loki Angst, Loki Redemption, M/M, Missions Gone Wrong, Misunderstandings, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, POV Loki, Polyamory, Post-Avengers (2012), Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Protectiveness, Shapeshifter Loki, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Wrongful Imprisonment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-10-28 18:44:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10837152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pure1magination/pseuds/pure1magination
Summary: If the flowers are fake, is the bouquet any less real?The love which blossoms between Loki Laufeyson and Steve Rogers is founded on false pretenses-- Steve thinks that Loki is Bucky, and by the time Loki realizes his feelings, it's too late to admit it's all a ruse.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this story for about two years. The original premise (Loki pretending to be Bucky) was thought up by a good friend of mine, who has granted me permission to post this story. 
> 
> This story has come a long way in the two years that it's been tumbling around inside my head. I must have tried to write this about a dozen times. It has evolved into a completely different beast than my friend originally envisioned. As such, I have been offered total credit for writing this story, but I still wanted to give a shout-out to my friend for inspiring me. You rock dude<3

How had this gone so wrong? It was supposed to be a simple mission. Yet here he was, trapped under a heavy, muscular arm, pinned against the warm, sturdy chest of Captain America. Morning sunlight filtered gently through the curtains, casting golden glimmers on the edges of the Captain’s closed eyelashes. His majestic face seemed to glow, relaxed as it was in sleep. Loki tried to extricate himself, but even the mere motion of lifting his head seemed to trip an alarm in the Captain’s brain, because suddenly his eyes were open and his expression serious. His arm tightened reflexively around Loki, trapping him in place.

Loki winced in discomfort.

“Sorry,” the Captain apologized, loosening his grip. “I, uh. Heh. -I had to make sure you were still there.”

“I’m still here,” Loki reassured him in a flat monotone.

The Captain gave him a vulnerable half-smile. Those searching blue eyes traced over and over Loki’s face, his chest, his arm. He drank Loki in like he hadn’t seen him in years, even though they’d just spent the night together. “Part of me wasn’t sure this was real,” the Captain admitted.

“It’s very real.”

The Captain traced a knuckle along the side of Loki’s face, sending a shiver up his spine. Loki closed his eyes, not wanting to take in the heartbreaking need and sincerity in the Captain’s eyes. This was all wrong.

“I missed you,” Steve whispered.

Loki swallowed, unable to speak.

The Captain wound his fingers through Loki’s hair, pulled him forward, and gently kissed his forehead. “I promise,” the Captain vowed, “I will never leave you behind again.”

Something tripped in Loki’s chest. Heat flooded through him, followed quickly by a surge of icy cold: none of these professions were meant for him. They were all meant for--

“Bucky,” the Captain said in that emotional, throaty voice that he only used when speaking to Bucky.

The Captain cradled Loki’s face. “I mean it,” he continued. “From now on, I want you by my side, every day, every battle, everywhere we go. God, Buck I-- I never want to let you out of my sight again.”

Loki gave him a wobbly half-smile. “Don’t you think that’s a bit overkill?”

“Overkill?” the Captain objected. “Last time I let you out of my sight, I didn’t see you again for months. The time before that, you tried to kill me. And the time before that… Bucky, I am so sorry. I should have looked for you. I should have-- jumped off that train after you, sent out a search party, done _something_ other than go feel sorry for myself in that bombed-out bar.”

“Rogers,” Loki objected.

“Steve,” the Captain corrected. “Please… call me Steve. Like you used to.”

Loki grimaced. “- _Steve.”_ The name left a thrilling tingle on his tongue. He enjoyed the way his lower lip vibrated on the ‘v’ at the end.

The Captain seemed to enjoy the sound of it as well, if the widening of those warm, dark pupils meant anything. Or perhaps the sharp, quiet intake of breath, or the way his lips hung slightly open.

Loki tore his gaze upward, away from the Captain’s mouth. “I told you before,” he said, managing his Brooklyn drawl, “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

“But Bucky--”

“Steve,” Loki repeated. “If anyone should be sorry, it’s me.”

* * *

It had been months since Loki’s staff had been stolen. Those pesky Avengers had disarmed, beaten, and humiliated him. And as a final stroke of indignation, they had taken his weapon as their own.

Being held prisoner on Asgard was endlessly boring. There was nothing to do except stare at the walls, bide his time, and plot his revenge. Loki watched the movements of the guards, memorized their routes, and which time who would be where. They cycled with nauseating predictability. He’d tried bribery and blackmail, threats and coercion, but the guards were immune to his silver tongue. They had been hand-picked by Frigga to ensure Loki’s continued captivity.

Loki could do nothing but bide his time.

Finally, one night, the stars aligned: trouble sparked in another realm. With the Allfather out of commission and the rainbow bridge still in a state of disrepair, Thor struggled with ruling Asgard and sending troops out to fight. Asgardians scrambled about the castle, rife with tension and uncertainty.

Amidst the chaos, Loki broke free.

*

Locating his weapon was child’s play. After very little searching, Loki discovered that his staff was currently being held at the Avengers Tower. For what purpose, Loki knew not, but it mattered not- his weapon would not be there for long.

Loki’s form shimmered and vanished as he teleported--

Only to smack into an invisible barrier, sprawled out like a bug on a windshield. He bounced off the barrier and landed roughly on the ground.

Loki shook himself and stood, snarling. He tried again.

Again, he was repelled by the invisible barrier.

“Stark,” he spat. The billionaire must have magic-proofed his tower to prevent Loki from ever teleporting into it again. Prudent, considering what Loki had done on his last visit, and especially now that Loki wanted to wring Stark’s neck.

Loki smoothed back his hair and prowled about the perimeter of the tower, searching for a way in. His magic revealed a protective barrier all around the tower, in a giant dome. He attempted a weakening spell, but this immediately set off a loud, blaring alarm, accompanied by flashing lights. A door on top of the tower opened up. Loki barely had time to disguise himself before Stark himself emerged from the tower in his iron suit. Those angry eye slots scanned the surrounding area.

Having detected no visible threat, Iron Man lowered himself back into his tower, presumably under the assumption that his system had been triggered by a false alarm. The blaring alarm silenced; the flashing lights ceased. Loki-as-an-old-woman hobbled away, shaking her head in dismay.

Apparently, he would have to find some _other_ way to sneak into the tower.

*

Loki had been surreptitiously monitoring the building from a nearby Starbucks for days. Even when the Avengers were called away on a mission, there was always at least one of them lingering at the Tower; the two most likely to stay behind were Sam Wilson and Captain Rogers. Loki found it odd that they left without a full team, since this group seemed to be so insufferably deeply bonded, but he supposed it made sense to leave someone behind in case someone launched an attack to their home base. It’s not like their base was exactly subtle.

Loki drained his French vanilla frappuccino and set the empty cup on the table. Today was a quiet day at Avengers Tower; no one had gone in or out all day. Loki was beginning to come to the conclusion that no one would.

Rather than waste his time staring at a closed door, Loki decided to take action. He knew there was no chance that he could infiltrate the Tower disguised as one of the present Avengers, because they kept constant tabs on each other, and he would immediately be detected as a fraud. However, there must be someone else they trusted. There must be someone outside of their pathetic little clique that at least _one_ of the Avengers would welcome with open arms, be it a friend, a relative, or even an old acquaintance. They were a sentimental group. This would be their downfall.

Thor may be clueless about the technologies of this century, but Loki had taken to them quickly. His fingers danced along the keys of his silver laptop. He opened a page on his encrypted browser and searched the Avengers one by one.

At first, his search yielded nothing. Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton, and Bruce Banner all lived rather nomadic lives. There was very little information about them, except locations where they had hithertofore resided, speculations about their romantic entanglements, and legends about their powers. Tony Stark seemed to have the widest array of acquaintances, but he also seemed to leave a trail of burnt bridges in his wake.

Tired of running into dead ends, Loki finally researched the second-most nauseating Avenger (the first, of course, being Thor). And there, Loki struck gold.

A man named James Buchanan Barnes-- or “Bucky,” as the Captain called him-- had been declared killed in action during World War II, but after that he had apparently been kidnapped and brainwashed by the organization called Hydra, which had given Barnes lethal training, several guns and knives, and a highly functioning metal arm. ‘The Winter Soldier’ was credited with over two dozen kills over the past fifty years. At first, his longevity seemed a puzzle, until Loki discovered the files that detailed The Winter Soldier being frozen and held in cryogenic stasis in-between kills.

Loki found himself oddly sympathizing with the Soldier; he knew a little something about being tortured and controlled, forced to commit atrocious acts against his will. He knew a little something about falling, about being lost. And he certainly knew about brainwashing.

So this was the man whom Captain America was so desperate to find. This… James Buchanan Barnes, childhood-friend-turned-enemy. He supposed he could understand the Captain’s urge to find him, to atone for past mistakes. What he was not so certain about was whether the Soldier was amenable to being _found._ This was a man so skilled at being invisible, he was infamous for it. His memories may or may not have been permanently erased. Loki suspected the Captain was on a fool’s errand.

However.

This gave Loki an idea.

*

Loki tugged the tattered dark gray hood closer around his face. He made a show of hesitating before he reached out towards the door. He appeared to think better about it; he withdrew his hand. He rubbed a hand over his face. He took half a step back and stared at the door for a moment. He reached out again. His finger trembled (artfully) before he pressed the doorbell.

This was the perfect disguise. He wouldn’t have to speak much, any errors or gaps in memory wouldn’t be questioned, and he was automatically granted the protection of at least half of the ‘Avengers.’ He was virtually untouchable. And given the his reputation, a sudden disappearance on his part wouldn’t be questioned at all. Sure, the Captain would search for him after he left, but the real Soldier was still out there somewhere. The Captain could retrieve his precious friend, and their short time together wouldn’t matter the moment they reunited-- the Captain might be confused, might question a few things, but overall he’d be so nauseatingly overjoyed to have his ‘Bucky’ back, he wouldn’t give it a second thought.

Real anxiety began to build when there was no response. Loki pressed the doorbell again. His mind ran wild over the possibilities of what Stark had installed into his security system. He wondered if somehow, he had been detected. He looked around for escape routes. If Stark wanted a fight, he’d be ready for him. Loki would _not_ be imprisoned again!

The door abruptly opened.

Captain Rogers stared at him wide-eyed, clinging to the doorframe for support. He took in Loki’s dirty hiking boots, his threadbare jeans, his stubble, his hoodie pulled up over ratty long brown hair. The Captain’s breathing quickened, each breath straining his skin-tight white t-shirt. Hope surged in his desperate blue eyes. “Bucky?” he asked at last.

“Rogers,” Loki-as-Bucky replied, level.

The Captain reached out towards him, but stopped himself halfway through, opting instead to cup the back of his own neck and hold the door open. “Come in?” he offered.

Loki-as-Bucky scanned the room over the Captain’s shoulder, uncertain.

“Please?” the Captain added. His eyes drew Loki in before he realized he had crossed the threshold. This seemed to please the Captain.

Loki-as-Bucky surveyed his surroundings, noting anything that could be useful later on.

“Can I get you anything?” the Captain offered. “Water? Coffee?”

“Water,” Loki-as-Bucky said.

“Okay. Kitchen’s over here.” He expected Loki to follow.

Loki-as-Bucky followed, silent.

The Captain opened a cupboard and took out a glass. He slammed the cupboard shut and turned the water on too high, red creeping up the back of his neck and staining his ears bright pink. He turned the water off and almost tripped, turning to hand it to Loki.

Loki-as-Bucky accepted the glass and noted that the Captain seemed flustered. He took a long drink, eyeing the Captain the whole time.

The Captain cleared his throat, crossed his arms, uncrossed his arms, then crossed them again, leaning against the counter. “So. How-- how’d you find me?”

Loki-as-Bucky shrugged one shoulder. “Didn’t you want me to?”

The Captain massaged  his nasal bone, pressing too hard. “Well, yes, I did, but I-- I didn’t think you’d-- Where have you been? Do you… remember?”

Loki-as-Bucky eyed him blankly. “Remember what?”

This response hit the Captain squarely in the heart. His expressions were far too easy to read. “...Anything?” he asked hopefully.

“Nothing specific,” Loki-as-Bucky replied; the best lies were always rooted in truth. Faking amnesia would cover any missteps on his part. It was quite fortuitous that amnesia seemed very likely in this case. He gave a little shrug, as though he was trying. “Names, faces… Sometimes one and not the other. I remember you, though.” He met the Captain’s eyes.

The Captain’s eyes lit up like the Rainbow Bridge when it’s ready for transport. He attempted to hide his joy. “You… remember me?”

Loki-as-Bucky smiled lopsidedly, making sure to only smile with his mouth, and not his eyes. “Captain America,” he said. Then, with more warmth, “Steve Rogers.”

The Captain eyed his face breathlessly. “Is that all..?”

Loki-as-Bucky took half a step closer. “You used to be smaller.”

These were apparently the magic words. The Captain’s face broke as though he was about to cry. He threw his arms around Loki-as-Bucky and held him close, cradling him like he was something precious. Invaluable.

Not knowing what else to do, Loki-as-Bucky hesitantly reached up and patted the Captain on the back.

The Captain held him tighter. His arms trembled, as though he were fighting the urge to cry.

Several chattering voices entered, accompanied by the sound of the door opening and closing repeatedly. Loki-as-Bucky stiffened. His glamour had fooled the Captain and Stark’s new security system, but he was uncertain how the other Avengers would react to his presence. This was not the way he had planned on introducing himself.

The Captain showed no sign of releasing him any time soon.

Clint and Natasha paused in the doorway to the kitchen, Clint’s mouth open mid-word. Natasha stared straight at him.

The Captain released Loki-as-Bucky just enough to reach up and brush his thumb against Loki-as-Bucky’s face. He stared into Loki-as-Bucky’s eyes as though they were the only two beings in the entire world. Loki’s pulse accelerated.

“Steve,” Natasha said.

The Captain became aware that other people existed. He turned and beamed at Natasha. “He came to _me,”_ the Captain stated in awe. He stepped closer, holding Loki-as-Bucky against his side. “I _told_ you he’d remember!”

Natasha stared at Loki, wary. “That’s great, Steve,” she said. Her voice carried a warning.

“Is he… safe?” Clint asked, stepping a fraction closer to Natasha.

“He’s been through a lot,” Steve defended. “He probably just wants to rest.”

“What’s the holdup?” Stark’s voice asked. “What’s everyone doing in here?” Stark poked his head in between Clint and Natasha’s shoulders. His eyebrows hit his hairline. “Murder-bot??”

The Captain’s arm tightened protectively around Loki-as-Bucky’s shoulders. “His name is Bucky,” the Captain warned, “and killing those people wasn’t his choice.” The ice in the Captain’s voice was enough to give even Loki chills.

Stark rolled his eyes. “This again.”

“He was brainwashed by Hydra,” the Captain said sharply.

“Squeaky-clean brain or not, he still murdered my parents. He’s not staying.”

“Tony.”

“My tower. My rules.”

*

“Sorry about Tony,” Captain Rogers apologized, helping Loki-as-Bucky to settle in. “He can be a little… pig-headed, sometimes.”

“It’s okay.” Being Barnes this long was tiring. Loki was eager to strip off his glamour as soon as possible.

“Are you tired?”

Loki-as-Bucky nodded.

“Sorry.” Captain Rogers fidgeted. “That’s right-- with being held captive, and being on the run, and all… gosh, you must not’ve gotten a decent night’s sleep for the past... seventy years.”

“Been longer than that,” Loki-as-Bucky answered gruffly.

Captain Rogers laughed sadly. He led Loki-as-Bucky to what he could only presume was the Captain’s own bedroom. It had a lived-in look, with socks strewn about the floor, the bedsheets bunched up on one side, and dust floating in the late-evening sunbeam. The room smelled musty.

Captain Rogers went red about the ears and apologized for the mess, bending to pick up his socks. His cheeks turned redder with every article of clothing he picked up. “You can sleep here tonight,” he announced. “I’ll take the couch.”

“You sure?” Loki-as-Bucky asked, only because it seemed proper Midgardian protocol.

Captain Rogers cupped a hand around Loki-as-Bucky’s shoulder. “I’m sure,” he said with far too much gravity.

Loki found himself watching the Captain as he exited the room and strode down the hallway. Something had almost happened just now, the nature of which Loki was uncertain. He felt almost as though he had missed a step.

Loki closed the door and locked it. He finally let his glamour fade away. He leaned his head back against the door in relief.

“Bucky?” the Captain asked suddenly. “Are you okay in there?”

Loki almost answered before changing his voice. “Fine,” he said tiredly. “Just want a little privacy.”

“Okay,” the Captain said hesitantly. “If you need anything, I’m right out here.”

Loki sighed. He took the few heavy steps towards the bed and flopped down on it, dead tired.

So far, everything was going according to plan.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fight, a shower, some domestic fluff, and some feelings

The Captain, as it turned out, had a habit of going out for an early morning run every morning. This worked to Loki’s advantage, as it gave him the opportunity to explore his apartment freely, without the guise of his glamour. There was nothing terribly helpful or interesting in the apartment, as he quickly discovered-- Captain Rogers lived a simple life, keeping only the essentials, with the exception of a curiously large collection of novelty baseball caps, and a storage rack chock-full of music and what Midgardians referred to as ‘movies.’ 

Loki thumbed through these ‘movies,’ reading the titles. Most of them were either documentaries, or animated and meant for children. The documentaries were primarily historical, but the animated movies spanned a wide variety of genres. There were some based in historical France, one based in a nondescript Nordic country, one in ancient Greece, and several with no discernable country of origin, with odd settings like a child’s bedroom, or one of Midgard’s oceans.

When Captain Rogers returned, Loki had grown bored enough to start reading the backs of these ‘movies’ to learn more about the plot. He heard the Captain’s footsteps and hastily transformed his visage, slipping once more into the glamour of Bucky Barnes.

“Oh,” the Captain said, pausing in the doorway. “You’re up.”

“Mm,” Loki-as-Bucky hummed, still reading the back of this ‘movie.’

Captain Rogers took a few hesitant, careful steps forward. “Frozen?” he asked, light amusement touching his voice. “We can watch that later, if you want.”

Loki-as-Bucky shrugged. He set the ‘movie’ aside.

“Are you hungry?” the Captain asked. “I was gonna hit the shower and then cook up some breakfast.”

“Sure.”

*

Captain Rogers had been eyeing him all morning. He glanced at Loki-as-Bucky again, over his shoulder, as he flipped a crepe on the stove.

Loki-as-Bucky sighed. “What is it, Rogers?”

The Captain’s ears tinged red; he’d been caught. He cleared his throat. “I’ve just been thinking.” He flipped the crepe onto a plate. “You’ve, uh-- been wearing that same outfit since yesterday. Is that the only outfit you own?”

Loki-as-Bucky shrugged uncomfortably. “Yeah, what of it?”

“I just thought, maybe you’d want to change clothes. You know, take a shower.”

“Are you suggesting I  _ smell?”  _

“No, no!” Captain Rogers was now reddened and flustered. “Nothing like that!” He gesticulated with his spatula. “It’s just-- I thought it might make you feel better.”

Loki-as-Bucky stared at the spatula in Rogers’s hand. He pulled a face. “I guess,” he said begrudgingly. “Don’t have anything to change into, though.”

“You can borrow mine!” Rogers offered way too quickly. He straightened, now quite red, and set the spatula down as though he’d just remembered he was still holding it. “I, um. I have a lot of clothes, and I can’t wear them all at the same time. I’m sure there’s something that fits you.”

Loki-as-Bucky accepted his plate of crepes and picked up his fork. He sliced off a portion of crepe and shoveled it into his mouth. 

Captain Rogers was still watching him.

Loki-as-Bucky rolled his eyes. “I guess.”

After his meal- which Rogers finished in record time- Rogers bustled about, fetching various things and returning over and over again to his bathroom. He tripped over himself several times, and dropped something which made a loud clatter. Loki-as-Bucky merely raised his eyebrow and continued eating at a leisurely pace.

“Okay,” Rogers announced, positively glowing, “I’ve set out an outfit for you. There’s a towel sitting on the back of the toilet. You’re more than welcome to use my soap and shampoo.”

Loki-as-Bucky slowly rose from his seat. He doubted he’d enjoy this experience, considering the vast disparity between the quality of soap on Midgard versus the soap on Asgard, but if it would mean a few moments of peace, he supposed he could manage.

Loki-as-Bucky headed to the small bathroom and closed the door behind him. He locked it with a ‘click.’ There was no need to disrobe, considering his clothes were magicked on. He supposed he could manufacture a bundle of some sorts and pretend that was his clothing. There was a used towel crumpled up in the corner. That would do.

Loki stripped out of his glamour and his clothes all at once, standing proudly naked in the center of this small Midgardian bathroom. The controls for the shower were simple enough-- one knob turned on the faucet, and the other controlled the temperature. He turned the knob to activate the shower; immediately, cold water sprayed from the overhead fixture. Loki shrank back from the cold water. There was no escaping the cold mist as he adjusted the dial, and this shower knew no degrees of subtlety, seeing as the moment he switched it just a hair’s breadth to the left, the water became scalding. He moved the dial back where it had been before. The spray turned lukewarm.

Loki supposed this would have to do. He climbed under the spray and allowed the water to run down over his back and shoulders. The soap Rogers had spoken of was a sad-looking green bar which smelled like chemicals. The shampoo Rogers had mentioned came in a cheap plastic bottle, with gaudy printed letters in curling text. At least the shampoo smelled vaguely pleasant.

Loki poured a portion of shampoo into his palm. The consistency was gel-like and viscous, yet slippery at the same time. The shampoo on Asgard was so much better. Loki sighed and brought the glob up to his hair. He massaged it into his scalp, coaxed it to the ends of his hair. Once the shampoo lathered into a foam, it felt much more pleasant.

Loki rinsed the shampoo out of his hair. He eyed the soap warily.

No, he decided. He would not use the soap.

Loki switched off the water and climbed out. He used the rough towel that Rogers had laid out for him with such care. The towels on Asgard were so much softer.

With a sigh, Loki slipped into the clothes which the Captain had laid out for him. The material was not as rough as Loki expected. The blue-gray t-shirt was cotton. The navy-blue plaid pants, he was uncertain of-- a blend, of some sort-- but they were not uncomfortable.

Loki slipped back into his glamour. The colors in this outfit, he noticed, brought out Bucky’s eyes. 

He wondered if this was intentional.

*

Despite Loki-as-Bucky’s prying, it appeared that they were not going to return to the Avengers Tower that day, or any time soon, for that matter. According to the Captain, he ‘wasn’t ready for that yet’ and he needed to be ‘rehabilitated’ before he could go out in public, whatever that meant. This resulted in a long argument which somehow ended with them sitting on opposite ends of the couch watching ‘Frozen.’

“So,” the Captain asked after ‘Frozen’ had concluded, “what did you think?”

“I don’t get it,” Loki-as-Bucky replied with a frown. “Why did she not simply seize control of the kingdom and rule them all? She clearly had the power. Once she accepted that she had control over ice, why didn’t she wreak revenge on those who had wronged her?”

Captain Rogers stared at him. “Because she was scared,” he said. “She’d been told to hide herself for all those years. She didn’t know what she was doing.”

“Bullshit. You saw that castle. She had considerable control over those powers to craft something with such precision.”

“Okay. So, given, she could control her powers. She never  _ wanted  _ to be queen. That was a title that was  _ given  _ to her. I think she’d much rather Anna had it.”

“Pfft. That giddy oaf? She isn’t suited for the throne.” Loki had to be careful to watch his accent. He needed to sound like Barnes. He’d almost sounded like himself, just now.

“She has a kind heart and she loves people,” the Captain pointed out. “Not to mention, she’s strong.”

“Are those the qualities that merit the throne? Strength and kindness?” Loki-as-Bucky sneered.

“Well, who would  _ you  _ have in charge?”

“Somebody who could keep their subjects in line.”

Captain Rogers fell silent. He seemed almost to crumple in on himself. He gave Loki-as-Bucky a crestfallen look. “Is that what they did to you?” he asked. “Keep you in line?”

Loki-as-Bucky fell silent. Certainly, he believed that a good ruler needed a firm hand. But that wasn’t what the Captain was asking.

The Captain read into his silence and drew his own conclusion. He placed a hand on Loki-as-Bucky’s shoulder. Sympathy rolled off of him in waves, marred by something darker. Loki was uncertain what this darker emotion was, but it sent an electric thrill through him.

“A good leader,” the Captain said at last, “cares about those he watches over. He doesn’t rule out of fear. They follow him because they  _ want  _ to, not because they’re afraid of what could happen if they don’t.”

“Is that what you are?” Loki-as-Bucky teased. “A good leader?”

“I try to be,” the Captain said.

Loki-as-Bucky rolled his eyes and shook his head.

The Captain smirked, gave his shoulder a pat, and stood. “Are you hungry for dinner? I’ve got some coupons for Chinese.”

*

Loki had clearly underestimated the Captain’s capacity for being a clingy, stubborn, over-vigilant pain in the ass. He’d thought, optimistically, that on their second morning together, the Captain would honor his request to return to the Avengers Tower. 

It was like trying to teach Thor mathematics. 

“Can I at  _ least  _ go outside?” Loki-as-Bucky asked on the morning of day three.

“Why do you want to go outside so bad?”

Loki-as-Bucky sighed in exasperation. “You can come with me. It’s not like I’m gonna run away.”

“How do I know that?”

Loki-as-Bucky acted hurt. “You don’t trust me?”

“No, I do, but-- what if something scares you? What if something happens? Bucky, you’re dealing with PTSD. There are some days when even I can barely stand to be around cars and buses because of the smell, or the sounds they make. If something happened while we were out…”

Loki-as-Bucky grimaced. “I just want to go for a walk. Can you grant me that? Just a simple walk?”

The Captain almost seemed to consider this for a moment, but his jaw steeled once more. “No. It’s not safe to go outside.”

Loki-as-Bucky crossed his arms. The metal one caught the Captain’s attention. “Well then, can I walk around the  _ apartment?  _ Or is that too much to ask?”

“Do you need to exercise?” the Captain asked. “Is that it? I can set up my treadmill.”

“It’s not just exercise,” Loki-as-Bucky countered. “I need fresh air.”

“I’ll open a window.”

Ten minutes later, Loki was getting what little exercise he could get on this strange machine, breathing in the exhaust fumes and the scent of rotten garbage through the open window. He glared at the Captain with every step he took, but his displeasure was rebuffed by the Captain’s broad, triangular back as the Captain worked innocently away at preparing their midday meal.

“You know this isn’t what I wanted,” Loki-as-Bucky grumbled.

“You wanted a walk and some fresh air,” the Captain argued blithely.

“I’d hardly call this  _ fresh.” _

“You can close the window.”

Loki-as-Bucky sighed heavily and kept plodding along on the treadmill. Truth be told, the air inside the apartment was better than the air outside the apartment, but he was in no mood to do anything the Captain said, even if that action was in his favor. He spotted a can of something on the windowsill which claimed to eliminate odors from the air. Glaring at the Captain, Loki-as-Bucky picked up the can, sprayed the air in front of the window, and kept plodding on the treadmill.

The Captain laughed quietly to himself.

*

Day four produced no fruit as far as venturing outside of the Captain’s apartment went, nor did day five. Loki discovered that it was apparently a Midgardian custom to shower each time after someone ‘worked out.’ Even though Loki-as-Bucky never broke even the slightest sweat on the treadmill, the Captain kept insisting that he take a shower afterward.

On day six, Loki had had enough of this showering nonsense. “If you’re going to make me shower, at  _ least  _ get some decent soap!”

The Captain blinked, taken aback. “What kind do you like?”

_ “Not  _ a bar!” Loki-as-Bucky proclaimed emphatically, holding out the offending greenish rectangle.

“Liquid, then?”

Loki-as-Bucky’s lip curled in distaste. “Don’t you have anything else?”

The Captain laughed. “Never did like soaping up, did ya Bucky?” He gazed at him fondly. “All right, I’ll get you some liquid soap. Got any particular scent in mind?”

“Something better than  _ this.” _

“Wow. You really don’t like Irish Spring.”

“This smells  _ nothing  _ like an Irish spring.”

The Captain laughed again. “All right-- fair point. How about something more natural, then? Cucumber? Oak?”

“Can’t I just come  _ with  _ you and pick it out?”

The Captain’s smile disappeared right off his face. “You know I can’t take you with me.”

“Why?! What am I going to do, shoot up a grocery store?!”

“Bucky, it’s not that I don’t trust you…”

“Then what!! Why can’t I go?!”

“Bucky.” The Captain laid his hand on Loki-as-Bucky’s arm. “I mean this in the nicest way, but you’re not yourself. You’ve been through a lot, and you need time to recover.” He gave Loki-as-Bucky’s arm a reassuring squeeze. “How about this: you tell me what your favorite scent is, and I’ll try to find it.”

Loki-as-Bucky glared at him for a long moment. It would seem that arguing with him today was pointless. But Loki would win one day. “...Mint.  _ Not  _ peppermint--  _ mint.  _ I don’t want to smell like a piece of candy.”

“All right,” the Captain said with an easy smile, “mint. I’ll pick you up a fresh washcloth, too.”

“My eternal thanks,” Loki-as-Bucky said sarcastically.

* 

Loath as he was to admit it, showering with the new mint soap and the new washcloth was quite refreshing. He did feel better afterward, and he was even beginning to enjoy the way the Captain’s clothes felt against his skin.

When Loki-as-Bucky emerged from the bathroom, the Captain was waiting for him in the kitchen, wringing his hands. A four course meal sat upon the table. Loki-as-Bucky sent the Captain a questioning look.

“I made your favorite,” the Captain said. “I’m… hoping you still like it.”

“I’m afraid I don’t remember,” Loki-as-Bucky admitted.

The Captain cleared his throat and pulled out a chair. “Roast beef, mashed potatoes, biscuits, and gravy. -No peas,” he added with a hopeful half-smile.

“It… smells good,” Loki-as-Bucky said, sitting down in the proffered chair.

The Captain sat down across from him. “Yeah, well-- here’s hoping it tastes as good as it smells. I’ve gotta admit, I was a little rusty on the gravy.”

“If it seems poisonous, I’ll let you know.” Loki-as-Bucky loaded up his fork.

The Captain laughed.

As it turned out, the Captain’s cooking was superb. The potatoes were creamy and buttery, the roast beef seasoned to perfection, the biscuits fluffy and light, and despite the Captain’s misgivings, the gravy was exactly as rich and luxurious as it smelled.

The Captain was trying badly to be subtle about watching him eat. “Nothing poisonous yet, huh?” he joked nervously.

“It’s not bad,” Loki-as-Bucky admitted.

“Not bad,” the Captain repeated. “Now that’s high praise!”

“Ah yes. A five-star review. ‘Not bad.’ Amateur chef Captain Rogers cooks an  _ acceptable  _ biscuits-and-gravy.”

Captain Rogers laughed. “Wow! ‘Not bad’  _ and  _ ‘acceptable!’ You flatter me, Buck.”

“I’ll do more than that when you cook me something  _ good.” _

The Captain’s jovial facade cracked. “...It’s not good?”

Loki-as-Bucky met his eyes. There was genuine hurt there. “I do like it.”

The Captain looked down. “But it’s not good.”

“It’s… better than good. Don’t sell yourself short, Rogers.” Loki-as-Bucky concentrated on his plate, rather than whatever earnest expression was probably on Rogers’s face.

Captain Rogers was relatively quiet for the rest of the meal. He seemed pleased, but also deep in thought. After they finished eating, the Captain halted Loki-as-Bucky’s attempt to bring his dishes to the sink. “I’ll get that,” he said. “Meet me on the couch. I got something in the mail today that I want to watch.”

Loki-as-Bucky followed the Captain’s request, if out of nothing but curiosity. The Captain bustled about in the kitchen, putting dishes away. It struck Loki that perhaps this was the Captain’s attempt at an apology.

“I’ve heard this is really good,” the Captain explained. He set up the DVD player. “And people keep quoting it, so I put it on my to-watch list, and since it came out recently, I thought you probably haven’t seen it either.” He placed a disc into the player.

“What is it?” Loki-as-Bucky asked.

“Just watch.” Captain Rogers reclined on the opposite end of the couch.

The title screen was animated and playful. It suggested something vibrant and fun. It wasn’t until about halfway through the movie that Loki began to feel uncomfortable.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a bad night, Cap feels bad about keeping 'Bucky' cooped up at home. Cue game night with Sam and Natasha

Loki was alone in a room where the ceilings stretched far too high and the floor undulated oddly beneath his feet. The farther he walked, the more difficult it was to stay upright. He stumbled forward faster and faster, finding it hard to breathe. The walls stretched higher. The end of the room seemed to retreat farther and farther away, no matter how quickly he ran.

Someone was chasing him.

“You cannot run from me forever, Laufeyson,” boomed Thanos.

Loki scrambled towards the door, which only seemed to get farther away from him the harder he tried to reach it. He felt the film slipping over his eyes, felt his resolve eroding. “No,” he gasped. He fought to keep the creeping tendrils out of his head, even as they closed around his mind.

“You will do my bidding,” commanded Thanos.

“Loki!” shouted Captain Rogers. He appeared from behind a pillar, eyebrows creased in worry. He wore only civilian clothes. His feet were bare. Yet he bore an expression of pure determination. 

“No!” Loki warned. “Stay back!”

The idiotic Captain ran straight towards him. 

One blast from Thanos obliterated his shield. Its fragments dissipated into the air, reduced to glittering dust.

Captain Rogers stared uncomprehendingly at his bare hand. He flexed his fingers slowly, as though he’d never seen them before. 

“Foolish mortal,” Thanos boomed. “You will only aid in his demise.”

Captain Rogers sank to his knees, clutching his head in pain. He fought against an invisible force. He trembled. He snarled. And then, calmness settled over his shoulders. His hands fell. 

“Loki?” the Captain said. He met Loki’s eyes. His irises were bright blue.

“Kill him,” Thanos commanded.

Loki felt his feet moving towards Captain Rogers. He felt his grip tighten around his staff. He saw himself raise it. His arm trembled. “No,” he pleaded. Tears gathered in his eyes. “No!” His voice shook.

Captain Rogers held himself completely open, chest exposed, arms out at his sides, palms spread. “Loki,” he said, weirdly calm. “It’s okay.”

“Go to him, Loki,” Thanos taunted. “Give him the killing blow.”

Loki’s staff glowed. “I can’t!” he whispered. He shot a blast of energy directly at Rogers’s heart.

Rogers tumbled backwards onto the ground, betrayal etched on his handsome face.

Loki nearly jumped out of his skin when the bedroom door opened. In a panic, he realized he was not wearing his glamour. The Captain was fast approaching him. Loki pulled up his hands instinctively to cover his face. 

“Bucky, are you all right?” 

“I’m fine,” Loki mumbled, switching into his glamour as he pulled his hands down his face. “I’m fine,” he repeated, trying to convince himself and not succeeding.

“I heard you tossing and turning,” Rogers said. “Were you having a nightmare?”

“It was nothing.” Loki-as-Bucky shook his head. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” The Captain stepped closer. He sat on the edge of the bed. “It sounded pretty bad.”

Loki-as-Bucky gave a rueful laugh. “He… he had control of me again. My mind. He-- kept making me do things, against my will.” Even as he spoke, he wasn’t sure why he was confiding in the Captain.

“The man who did this to you..?” The Captain reached out towards Loki-as-Bucky’s shoulder. His palm came into contact with the scarred flesh at Loki’s collarbone. 

Loki-as-Bucky looked down at the Captain’s hand. 

The Captain gently traced the pink-and-white webbing of scars up towards his metal shoulder. 

The way the Captain’s fingertips grazed his skin carried an emotional weight the likes of which Loki could not remember anyone ever touching him with. His own breath caught as the Captain traced downward, over downy brown chest hair, his palm coming to rest over Loki’s heart.

The Captain stared at his hand for a long moment, silent, but the emotions surging through him spoke volumes. 

He grabbed Loki-as-Bucky’s metal bicep. “I promise I am going to destroy the bastards that did this to you.”

Loki’s heart flipped. To be cared about this much… he’d never experienced this before. He gave the Captain a grim smile. “I’m not sure if that’s possible.”

The Captain’s eyes were pure steel. “I will destroy every last one of them.”

Loki could do nothing for a moment but stare dumbly at the Captain . It would seem he had underestimated Captain America. He had thought him Thor’s Midgardian equal, if in no other way than that utterly sickening pure, unadulterated goodness that leeched off of them like sun rays. Yet here were intriguing tendrils of darkness, lashing out, ready to strike his enemies dead. “...Why?” he whispered.

The Captain gave him a broken look. His hand returned to Loki-as-Bucky’s shoulder. He brought himself closer. “Because you didn’t deserve this, Buck. No one does. And I’m going to make  _ damn  _ sure they can never do this to anyone, ever again.”

Loki swallowed. “You… would do that, for  _ me?”  _

The Captain opened his mouth to say something, but closed his mouth and instead, gave him one firm nod.

“But Captain,” Loki-as-Bucky said, slipping. He corrected himself and made sure to speak in a Brooklyn accent. “I’m not worth it.”

The Captain, again, seemed as though he was going to say something, but instead he opted for holding Loki-as-Bucky by the shoulders and stating, “Yes. You are.”

Loki’s eyes slid askance. It was troublesome, looking this much goodness in the face, feeling so valued, swept up in the moment, almost forgetting that the Captain wasn’t speaking to him. The Captain did not care about him. It was the man Loki was impersonating that the Captain cared about so sincerely. Loki was tricking this sad, lonely man in order to steal something from him. He was never supposed to get this close.

In retrospect, Loki supposed he should have seen this coming. He should have known the Captain would want to reunite with his friend, to apologize, to make it up to him somehow, for all those years they were separated. He had just never thought…

“Bucky,” the Captain said in a voice that made Loki’s heart flutter. The Captain leaned closer. He gently swept an errant lock of hair out of Loki-as-Bucky’s face. “Whatever they did to you, it wasn’t your fault. You never deserved any of this. I… am  _ so  _ sorry that they found you, instead of me. I am  _ so  _ sorry for everything they put you through. I’m sure sometimes, you thought you’d be better off dead. But, Buck….” The Captain grabbed Loki-as-Bucky’s hands and held them between his own, brought them towards his chest. “As awful as it was, it’s because of them that you’re still alive. And a selfish part of me is glad for that. And you can bet your bottom dollar that I am going to do everything in my power to make it up to you. I… I’ve been so lonely, since they woke me up outta that ice. I never imagined I’d get my best friend back.”

Loki’s stomach churned. “But I’m not-”

“You  _ are.”  _ The Captain brought Loki-as-Bucky’s knuckles up to his lips and kissed them. “You may not be the same guy I knew in the ‘40s, but neither am I. We’ve both changed, Buck. And that’s never stopped us before. We’re gonna get through this, you and me. Just like old times.”

“I don’t….” Loki-as-Bucky swallowed. “I don’t know if I can do that.”

The Captain gave him a heartbreaking smile. “That’s okay,” he promised. “We’ll figure it out together.”

The Captain gave Loki-as-Bucky’s flesh shoulder one last pat. He smiled lopsidedly and stood. “Well,” he said, as though they’d just been discussing the weather, “Guess I’m up for the day. You want me to make some breakfast? Or are you going back to sleep?” he added with a note of reluctance.

“Sleep,” Loki-as-Bucky responded.

The Captain gave a small chuckle. “All right. Rest up, sleepyhead. There’ll be pancakes when you wake up.”

After the Captain shut the door, Loki stared at the ceiling for a long time.

*

“I’ve been thinking,” Captain Rogers said by way of apology, “And you know that? You’re right. I want you to meet some of my friends.”

Loki-as-Bucky perked up. “Does this mean we’re going to the Avengers Tower?”

“No. Sam and Natasha are going to swing by after dinner.”

Loki-as-Bucky sighed.

Captain Rogers spent much of the day as he usually did- watching television, reading articles on his laptop, and taking frequent breaks to exercise and move around.

Loki-as-Bucky spent his day alternately staring out the window, staring at the Captain, and reading an incredibly dull novel. Midgardian life was truly devoid of thrill.

He was relieved by the knock on the door. “Sam,” Captain Rogers greeted, welcoming his friend through the door. 

Sam was carrying two bags. He gave Loki-as-Bucky a guarded smile and a quick wave. 

“Nat,” Captain Rogers greeted. 

Natasha was carrying a small black box. She smiled enigmatically. “Couldn’t let Sam have all the fun,” she said.

“What’ve you got there, Sam?” Captain Rogers said.

“Well, I’ve got Apples to Apples, Uno, Sorry, a regular deck of cards, and just in case we get  _ really  _ bored, Monopoly.” Sam set the bags on the coffee table.

“And  _ I,”  _ Natasha said, waving the black box, “have Cards Against Humanity.”

Loki-as-Bucky perked up. “Cards Against Humanity?” he echoed.

“Later,” she promised with a smirk. “Why don’t we warm up with some Uno?”

“Sounds good.” Captain Rogers plopped down on the couch, on the far end away from Loki-as-Bucky. Natasha sat cross-legged on the floor. 

Sam remained standing as he cleared off a space on the coffee table, produced the box labeled ‘Uno’ from one of his plastic bags, and took out a deck of simply colored cards. He shuffled the deck and dealt each of them seven cards. “All right,” he said, “Left of the dealer goes first. That’s you, Nat.”

“Lucky you,” she said to Loki-as-Bucky, “you’re not next to me.” She slapped down a ‘reverse.’

“Don’t you think we ought to explain how this game works?” Captain Rogers worried.

“It’s pretty simple.” Sam put down a yellow 4. “You either put down a card of the matching color, or a matching number. So, say you had a yellow card-- you could put that down, or if you had any fours, no matter what color, you could put that down.”

Loki put down a yellow ‘draw two.’

Captain Rogers drew two cards. “I think he gets it.”

Natasha snorted.

This game turned out to be all right. The rules were simple, but the opportunity for vengeance and messing with people was ripe. Captain Rogers and Sam each took turns seeing Loki-as-Bucky as the bane of their existence. He was rather masterful at making them draw cards.

“Damn,” Sam said, drawing four more cards to add to his impressive stack, “I think you might have competition.”

“Aw, does that mean you miss going after me?” Natasha teased.

“Not on your life,” Sam said with a laugh after she set down a ‘draw two.’

“Uno,” Loki-as-Bucky proclaimed.

“All right,” Captain Rogers said, setting down his cards, “that’s it. I’m out.”

“Aw,” Natasha teased, “you don’t wanna fight for second?”

“Nat, I have fourteen cards.”

“Eleven here.” Sam set down his hand.

Natasha tch’d disappointedly. She set down her four cards. She had three skips. “And I was having so much fun.”

“Well of course  _ you  _ were,” the Captain sulked.

“How about something a little nicer,” Sam suggested, “like Apples to Apples?”

Apples to Apples was all right. There was certainly the opportunity for humor, but it was distinctly lacking in the ability to screw people over. However, the game seemed to placate Captain Rogers and get him into a better mood, so there was that.

“Is anyone else getting a little bored with this game?” Natasha asked after about half an hour. 

“I don’t get a lot of these references,” Captain Rogers admitted.

“Me neither,” Loki-as-Bucky chimed in.

“Okay,” Sam granted. He, too, seemed to be getting a little bored. “Nat? Break it out.”

“Yesss.” As Sam cleared away the Apple game, Natasha produced her little black box from under the table.

“Did you bring any of the extension packs?” Captain Rogers asked.

“Only my favorites,” Natasha answered, pulling two of them from her pants-pocket. She separated the black cards from the white cards and shuffled the decks.

“Okay,” Sam said by way of explaining the rules, “This game is pretty much exactly like Apples to Apples, but for adults.”

Loki-as-Bucky raised an eyebrow.

“You’ll see,” Captain Rogers informed him.

When Loki-as-Bucky read the cards in his hand, his face slowly broke out into a grin. Oh, he was going to enjoy this.

“All right,” Sam announced, “I’m first judge. ‘What would grandma find disturbing, yet oddly charming?’ Aaand- go!”

*

It was no surprise to anyone that Loki, the god of mischief, would excel at Cards Against Humanity. It wasn’t much of a surprise that Natasha, The Black Widow, was also rather talented at this game. The real surprise though-- the endless surprise that kept on giving-- was how incredibly talented Captain Steve Rogers was at Cards Against Humanity.

Round after round, Loki-as-Bucky always chose the Captain’s card. Sam started making jokes about how the game was rigged, but Loki was just as surprised as the rest of them, possibly even more so. Round after round, it was Captain America that made him laugh the hardest.

“Why, Captain Rogers,” he couldn’t resist saying after a particularly impressive round, “you’ve got a dirty mind!”

The Captain’s eyes twinkled. “You should know.”

Loki actually felt himself blush. He laughed.

Captain Rogers gave him the warmest smile every time he laughed.

Loki was helpless but to smile right back.

Sam cleared his throat loudly. They both looked at him like they’d just remembered he was there. Sam raised his eyebrows. “Steve? It’s your turn.”

“Oh. Right.” The Captain drew a card from the top of the stack. “‘During sex, I like to think about ___.’”

Loki-as-Bucky played the one card he knew the Captain would pick.

Captain Rogers read the two disturbing cards from Sam and Nat “-The holocaust? Really?” (Natasha shrugged). And the third card, “Cuddling?”

Loki-as-Bucky gave him a tiny smile.

Captain Rogers smiled at him as though his heart had physically become the sun. He held onto that card for a good thirty seconds before Sam announced that Bucky had won, that there was no competing with the thirty points he’d managed to rack up, and he was getting tired of losing. He only let go of the card, absently, when Natasha reached for it in the midst of her cleanup.

Captain Rogers noticed that his friends were getting ready to leave about halfway through the process. “You’re going?”

“Yeah,” Sam said. “It’s getting late. We’ve got stuff to do in the morning.”

Captain Rogers stood. “Want me to walk you out?”

“You don’t have to trouble yourself,” Natasha teased.

“No,” the Captain argued. “I want to.” He chauffeured his friends to the door. 

Once they’d stepped out into the hallway, presumably out of earshot, Sam said, “He seems to be adjusting well.”

“I agree,” Natasha murmured. “I think he’s safe.”

“I  _ know _ he’s safe,” Captain Rogers said. “I just wanted to hear a second opinion.”

“My opinion?” Natasha said. “You may have gotten back more than just a friend.”

Loki could practically feel the Captain’s blush all the way through the wall. “What?!”

Their conversation continued as they truly strode out of earshot. Loki’s pulse had elevated. He wondered if these unfortunate feelings could be mutual. 

Then he mentally scolded himself, because of course they were not. Whatever feelings the Captain had for him were for his friend.

The Captain returned, closed his door, strode to a window, and waved good-bye to someone outside- probably Natasha and Sam. He seemed surprised when he turned around and found Loki-as-Bucky still on the couch. He recovered enough to say, “Good game.”

“Indeed,” Loki-as-Bucky agreed.

“Uh.” Captain Rogers cleared his throat. “I’m-- I’m gonna get ready for bed. Are you, uh-- are you sleeping in here?”

“No,” Loki-as-Bucky replied. “The bedroom.”

Captain Rogers nodded. “Right.” He lingered for an awkward moment, then hastily headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

Loki had seen yet another new side of the Captain that night. There was an undeniable thrill now, whenever the Captain smiled at him. Making a potentially awful decision, Loki left the bedroom door unlocked again that night. He found himself disappointed when he woke up alone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Board games and boners

The next morning, Captain Rogers kept his distance. He hurried through breakfast. He stood stiff-shouldered at the counter, washing dishes with much more precision than usual. After he finished this long, awkward task, he left the apartment on the flimsy excuse that he “forgot to pick something up at the store the other day.” When pressed, he didn’t elaborate. He ducked his head, ears red, and said he’d be back soon.

Loki explored the Captain’s apartment once more. He disliked the gnawing concern that the Captain was avoiding him. He tried to push away the intrigue as to what had shifted between them, tried to convince himself that whatever it was didn’t matter because he’d be gone soon, but his chest constricted and he couldn’t stop his feet from pacing.

Loki decided to busy himself memorizing the contents of the Captain’s bookshelves, of which there were two. The first was loaded with music and movies. The second was loaded with books, about a third of which Loki had breezed through and put back on account of how utterly dull they were. On the very bottom shelf sat three boxes, which were labeled ‘Battleship,’ ‘Chess,’ and at the very bottom, ‘Risk.’

For lack of anything better to do, Loki examined these boxes one by one. He was in the middle of reading the instructions for ‘Battleship’ when he heard familiar footsteps approaching the apartment door. Familiar keys jingled at the lock.

Loki-as-Bucky glanced up at Captain Rogers as though mildly surprised to see him.

“Hey,” Captain Rogers greeted apologetically. He shut the door behind himself. “What’s that you’ve got there? Battleship?” Captain Rogers set the bag on the counter.

Loki-as-Bucky let his halfhearted smile answer for him. He pretended to focus on reading the manual.

Captain Rogers turned to take one box of butter out of the bag on the counter. He placed the butter in the refrigerator, leaning over to do so. His pants hugged his toned bottom, almost squeezing his flesh. His shirt strained over his back. Captain Rogers closed the refrigerator and took the receipt out of the bag. He set the receipt on the counter and folded the bag. His arms bulged as the various muscles flexed with motion. His skin seemed very smooth.

“We can play that, if you want,” Captain Rogers said off-handedly, bending over once more to place the bag under the counter.

Loki-as-Bucky was still staring when the Captain turned around to offer him raised eyebrows and a walled-off smile.

“Is it fun?” Loki-as-Bucky asked.

“It can be.”

Loki-as-Bucky shrugged one shoulder. “Sure.”

Captain Rogers set up the game as Loki-as-Bucky pretended to be fascinated with the last page of the manual, rather than tracking the Captain’s every move.

“You ready, Buck?”

Loki-as-Bucky set the manual aside. He raised his eyebrows.

Ever the picture of politeness, the Captain asked, “Do you want to go first, or do you want me to go first?”

“You go first.”

“D5.”

“Miss.”

The Captain moved a peg.

“E7.”

“Miss.” As Loki-as-Bucky moved his peg, the Captain quipped, “Thought you hated reading the manuals, Bucky.”

“Couldn’t remember if I played it before,” Loki-as-Bucky said, laying on the seriousness.

“Oh.” The Captain cleared his throat. “J7.”

“Miss.”

They played several rounds in near-silence.

Finally, Captain Rogers landed the first hit.

“You know,” he said, “We don’t have to keep playing this if you don’t want to.”

“Oh, I do. D4.”

“Hit.”

The next several rounds included more red than white. Loki-as-Bucky only needed to sink one more ship, but the Captain was two hits ahead of him.

Within two more turns, the Captain had won.

“Hey,” Captain Rogers said in response to Loki-as-Bucky’s pout, “How about we try another game?”

“Like what.”

Captain Rogers pulled out the box labelled ‘Risk.’ The box wasn’t terribly descriptive; it had a lot of pictures of horses and continents on it, but other than a few men in armor, it didn’t really hint at what the game was about.

Loki-as-Bucky raised a questioning eyebrow.

Captain Rogers explained the game: “It’s about world domination. You build up armies on different continents, and invade other countries until either you die, or you win.”

Loki-as-Bucky was glad he’d perfected his poker face. “Sure. We could give it a try.”

Captain Rogers gently talked Loki-as-Bucky through the setup, advising him through which countries to place his troops on, and explaining which pieces were which. Loki-as-Bucky maintained his poker face, following the Captain’s suggestions.

However, roughly twenty minutes into the game, Captain Rogers began to suspect that Loki-as-Bucky had a firmer grasp on this game than he had originally anticipated. He attacked one of Loki-as-Bucky’s armies and snatched one of his territories. He gave Loki-as-Bucky a sharp smirk; those blue eyes sparked with challenge.

Electricity crackled just under Loki’s skin. He attacked one of the Captain’s territories on the following turn.

From there on in, the competition intensified. Captain Rogers proved his mettle as a master strategist, but Loki-as-Bucky kept pulling unexpected attacks, milking his talent for misdirection. The tide changed nearly every turn; armies fell left and right, whole continents were conquered and then seized. The air around them carried the heat of a summer thunderstorm, crackling with unreleased energy.

Heat pulsed against Loki’s thigh. His heart raced when the Captain shifted positions, artfully arranging his thighs so that his crotch was out of Loki’s sightline. The Captain coughed into his fist unnecessarily and cleared his throat, attempting to appear casual. The tips of his ears burned red.

Loki-as-Bucky initiated another battle. It resulted in a stalemate. Captain Rogers initiated a battle; another stalemate. Their power was just about equal. The board was equally coated in green and blue. Loki-as-Bucky won a battle on his next turn. He knocked one of the Captain’s pieces too hard; it slid into another territory. He and the Captain reached for it at the same time. Their hands brushed. Both yanked their hands back as though they’d been electrocuted. Their eyes met.

Captain Rogers had the clearest blue eyes Loki had ever seen. Those large black pupils stared directly into his eyes. It was quiet enough that he could hear the Captain’s elevated breathing.

“Is it just me,” Captain Rogers said in a low, husky voice, “or is it hot in here?”

“It is rather warm today,” Loki-as-Bucky stated. There was a ring of green, deep in the Captain’s eyes. This perfect man had an imperfection.

Captain Rogers glanced at Loki-as-Bucky’s mouth. His own mouth hung ajar. Abruptly, he closed his mouth, leaned back, took his ‘dead’ piece off the board, and said “Finish your turn.”

Loki-as-Bucky shivered. “I attack here.” He pointed. His fingertip tapped the board.

They sky darkened outside. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

Loki-as-Bucky cast an uneasy look at the window.

Rain began to patter against the glass.

“It’s dark,” Loki-as-Bucky noted. “I can’t really see the game board.”

Captain Rogers swallowed. “I’ll get the light.”

Loki-as-Bucky watched, with great interest, as the Captain stood. As hastily as he turned around, there was no mistaking the tubular outline near his pocket. Another shot of electricity spiked Loki’s veins. His own bulge twitched against his thigh.

Captain Rogers stopped short when he turned around. He let out a quick gasp. His widened eyes were glued on Loki-as-Bucky’s borrowed pajama pants, and it wasn’t the pattern of cartoonish rubber ducks that had so suddenly caught the Captain’s attention. His gaze traced the heated outline pressing against Loki’s thigh, fixating on the small wet spot pearling out at the tip. He exhaled like the air had just been bodily slammed out of him.

“Is there a problem, Captain?” Loki asked, using Bucky’s lowest voice. He brushed his thumb against his thigh, almost near enough to touch himself, but not quite.

“I, uh--” Captain Rogers averted his gaze, going beet red. He scratched the back of his neck. “I just realized how much time has passed. Are you hungry? It’s gotta be past lunch time. It’s dark outside.”

“It’s storming,” Loki-as-Bucky said calmly.

“Yeah, but, still. I’m, uh-- We can finish this game later. I’m gonna head to the kitchen. Do sandwiches sound good to you? I’ll make us some sandwiches. I’m just gonna wash up in the bathroom first. The kitchen is running low on soap. I’ll, uh-- I’ll be right back.” Captain Rogers hastily headed for the bathroom. He closed and locked the door.

Loki-as-Bucky stood. He padded towards the bathroom. He hovered near the door, listening.

Captain Rogers tried to muffle it, but his breath was shaky and uneven.

Loki pressed his ear against the door.

The Captain’s breath grew faster and more uneven. His breath began to stutter. The rhythmic slap of flesh echoed quietly through the bathroom as the Captain began to lose control, as he lost himself in sensation-- not enough to groan, but enough that Loki could hear when he changed the shape of his mouth.

Loki reached downward and squeezed himself through his pants.  

Captain Rogers kept breathing faster, shaky and uneven, as he reached a fever pitch. He bit back a whimper. He gasped high and sweet, keened under his breath, and the rhythmic slapping noise stopped. He released a breath as though it had been dammed up for days. And then he caught his breath.

Loki-as-Bucky closed himself into the bedroom and locked the door behind himself. He utilized the hole in the front of those ridiculous pajama bottoms in order to achieve his own sweet release. He was nearly there when--

“Bucky?” Captain Rogers asked, voice right up against the door.

Loki-as-Bucky nearly cursed. “Yeah?” he asked as casually as possible.

“Uh…” The Captain cleared his throat. “Do you want one sandwich, or two?”

“Two.”

“Okay.”

As the Captain’s footsteps faded, Loki resumed stroking himself, biting his hand to muffle his voice.

*

Loki-as-Bucky and Captain Rogers concluded their game of Risk after some carefully-made grilled cheese and canned tomato soup. Although the competition remained intense, the summer-thunderstorm air seemed to have dissipated to a calmer atmosphere. No longer distracted, each man was able to dedicate his full attention- and thus, skill- to the game.

It was only through luck that Loki won; he said as much after Captain Rogers congratulated him.

“No, you earned it,” Captain Rogers insisted.

“It was dead even,” Loki-as-Bucky insisted. “I only won by a roll of the dice.”

“Several rolls of the dice,” Captain Rogers corrected, “but that’s not true. You really had me fighting for the entire game. I…” Captain Rogers got bashful. “I’ve never had someone challenge me that much.”

Loki-as-Bucky’s eyes flickered. “Neither have I.”

Captain Rogers stared at him for a heartbeat or two. He broke away to put the game back in its box. “We should play this again sometime,” he said casually.

“Yes,” Loki-as-Bucky agreed. “We should.” His implication hung, heavy, in the air.

“You up for a game of Chess?”

“That depends. Are you ready to lose?”

Captain Rogers laughed. “I don’t know. Are you?”

*

Thus began their indefinite chess tournament. Captain Rogers made this very clear after he lost their first game… and then their second. Rogers had that set jaw and steely eye that vowed determination in the face of a challenge.

It could be the amber sunset light causing the Captain’s skin to glow; that particular light tended to set poets’ hearts aflame. Perhaps this is why Loki found the Captain’s determination so endearing in that moment, although he would never have used the word. If pressed, Loki would have described a certain warmth in his chest, a surging spark that made his lips curl up at the corners; he would have said that, despite his snide comments goading the Captain into further competition, he genuinely looked forward to their next chess match.

The box sat on its shelf for the night, its bold black letters beckoning them, but Captain Rogers vied instead for another movie that night. It took place during World War II, and featured soldiers on the battlefield.

All throughout the movie, Captain Rogers seemed… not himself. By turns, he was tense, angry, or he would go very still and stare off into the distance with an expression of deep tragedy.

“Are you all right?” Loki-as-Bucky asked softly after the film was over.

Captain Rogers had that faraway look again. “Fine.”

Loki-as-Bucky slid closer, reaching out towards the Captain with one tentative hand.

Captain Rogers abruptly stood. He crossed the room like a tin soldier, each of his movements stiff.

Loki-as-Bucky lowered his hand. “You never were good at talking about your feelings, were you, Rogers.”

The plastic case clicked shut. Captain Rogers set the DVD on the shelf. “There’s nothing to talk about.” He turned. “Did you remember anything?”

“Only that that’s not how wars work,” he replied wryly.

Captain Rogers snorted quietly. “You got that right.” He stared into the distance, grave.

Loki-as-Bucky rose.

“Did you remember anything else?” Rogers asked.

Loki-as-Bucky approached him. “That you were marvelous on the battlefield.” This, at least, was not a lie. Captain Rogers had proven formidable when he’d taken command of the Avengers. He’d slain his enemies with his bare hands.

Rogers raised an eyebrow. “That’s not what you said in the ‘40s.”

“Remind me.”

Rogers faced him fully. “Hmm, let’s see. You called me a stupid little shit, reckless, irresponsible,” he edged closer with each word, closing the distance between them, “stubborn, crazy, and you kept asking me if I had a death wish.” They now stood toe-to-toe. “Are you telling me that all that time, you _weren’t_ just following me to make sure I didn’t get myself killed? ‘Cause, Bucky…” He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “That’s the only reason you ever gave.”

Loki-as-Bucky tilted his head. “Do I need a better reason?”

“I can take care of myself, Buck.”

“So you keep saying… but to my recollection, every time you’re left alone, you do get quite reckless.”

“I know my limitations.”

“As do I.”

Their faces were almost touching. The Captain’s eyes were positively smoldering. The air between them sizzled, reaching out to pull them closer. Loki-as-Bucky’s lips were parted. So were the Captain’s.

Captain Rogers pushed his nose against Loki-as-Bucky’s. “Then you know I can take care of myself,” he said.

“And _you_ know I don’t believe that for one second.” Loki-as-Bucky tilted his head.

The Captain’s cell phone decided to ring, just as Rogers was shifting his nose to the side. Abruptly, he broke away to answer his phone, leaving Loki-as-Bucky to process the repercussions of what had almost just happened.

The phone call transformed the atmosphere until the sultry aspects were gone. Rogers had drawn a veil over his emotions again and was pretending as though nothing had happened; he conveyed as much to whoever he was having the casual conversation with on that phone. His stiff laugh rang shallow to the ears of the professional liar. Loki had no patience for allowing the Captain to sweep his feelings under the rug, and then coaxing them out once more. So instead, Loki retired to the bedroom, and eventually fell asleep.

*

The sky was dark, the air still.

Loki was uncertain, for a moment, what had awoken him. He sat up, listening. There were only the usual sounds of a city at night-- the whoosh of traffic, the distant blaring of emergency sirens, a few scattered crowds of folks talking and laughing late into the night-- but then he heard it: a pained moan.

Loki stood and crossed the room. He pulled on his glamour.

The Captain released another pained moan, and a muffled “Stop.”

Loki-as-Bucky crept into the living room with silent vengeance, ready to kill whoever was causing the Captain such pain. He kept to the shadows-- easy, considering the apartment was mostly dark-- and kept his footsteps light. He hugged the walls. He glared this way and that, searching for signs of an intruder.

Once he arrived at the living room, however, all he found was Captain Rogers, curled up in a ball and writhing on the couch, breathing heavily. “No,” he kept saying, “Stop! Stop…”

Loki-as-Bucky knelt next to him. “Captain,” he said, laying a hand on his shoulder.

The Captain only flinched and curled farther in on himself.

“Captain!” Loki-as-Bucky said, louder. He shook Rogers’s shoulder.

Rogers did not respond.

“Rogers,” Loki-as-Bucky snapped. He shook his shoulder harder.

Rogers swatted at him, mumbled something, but otherwise did not respond.

“Steve!” Loki-as-Bucky shouted at last, in exasperation. He slapped the Captain’s upper back.

The Captain awoke with a start.

The next thing Loki knew, he’d landed on his arse. His hands came up to cradle his stinging nose.

Captain Rogers cast wild eyes about the room, ready to fend off an invisible enemy. However, when no apparent enemy revealed itself, Captain Rogers slid into confusion. It was at this point that the Captain spotted Loki-as-Bucky on the floor. “Bucky!” The Captain exclaimed. “Is that you?”

Loki-as-Bucky tenderly prodded his nose to check if it was broken.

“Shit!” the Captain cursed. He swung his feet aside, switching to a sitting position, leaning forward. “Are you all right?”

Loki-as-Bucky winced. “Nothing’s broken.”

“Bucky I’m so sorr-”

“You wanna tell me what that was about?”

The Captain closed himself off. “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough to get punched in the face.” Loki-as-Bucky rubbed his nose one last time. “You were thrashing about and telling someone to stop,” Loki-as-Bucky explained. He glanced up at the Captain. “Dare I ask?”

Captain Rogers pulled a face. “You can ask. Doesn’t mean I have to answer.”

“Fine then. Don’t. Just tell me this…” Loki-as-Bucky stood. “Are you going to be all right?”

“You speak English differently.”

Loki-as-Bucky paused, wary. “Do I?”

“Yeah. Heh. Must be a side-effect of having spoken Russian as your primary language for so long.”

“Must be.” Loki-as-Bucky flexed his metal hand.. “Is it… bad?”

Captain Rogers smiled. “It’s better English than you ever spoke, Buck. Heck, you’re starting to make me feel uneducated.”

Loki-as-Bucky snorted. “Yes, that’ll be the day. Captain Rogers declared Not-That-Smart.”

“Tony would have a field day.”

“That field day will never come.” Loki-as-Bucky sat next to Captain Rogers.

“Are you sure?” Captain Rogers joked. “You won’t go to the papers tomorrow morning and tell them I still use slang?”

“Captain,” Loki-as-Bucky chastised, “there are _far_ worse things I could tell the press.”

Captain Rogers’s arm slid around him. “Like what?”

“Well, for starters, you’re harboring a known fugitive.” Loki-as-Bucky made himself comfortable against Captain Rogers’s warm side.

Captain Rogers’s arm tightened around him. He pulled him closer. “But you wouldn’t tell them that,” he said softly.

“What makes you so sure?”

Captain Rogers’s eyes traced Loki-as-Bucky’s face in the dark. “Because you haven’t done it yet.”

Loki-as-Bucky leaned closer. “Maybe I’m just biding my time.”

“I don’t think so.” Captain Rogers leaned closer.

“Oh?” Loki-as-Bucky’s heart tripped. “And why is that?”

“Because you don’t want to get caught,” Captain Rogers whispered.

Loki-as-Bucky exhaled through his parted lips. A distinct musty smell hung heavy in the air. Very little space separated his lips from the Captain’s. If he leaned forward right now…

Captain Rogers turned his head to the side. Loki could _feel_ him squashing his emotions down. When the Captain turned to look at him again, it was as if a stone wall had been thrown up between them. “Keep me company until I fall asleep?” he asked casually, as though it didn’t really matter.

“Of course,” Loki-as-Bucky said. And although he leaned his cheek against the Captain’s shoulder, although the Captain’s arm remained around his shoulders, whatever moment had almost seized them was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a bittersweet chapter
> 
> At least Steve finally knows how he feels

Their chess tournament resumed the next day. Captain Rogers proved himself time and again to be a worthy adversary, but it was clear that the good Captain was getting deeply vexed by his continual losing streak. Loki-as-Bucky suggested that they take a break and play something else. He stared pointedly at Risk. 

However, Captain Rogers had other ideas.

The next thing Loki knew, he was being handed an oblong box with buttons on it and instructed to put on a wrist strap. Loki surreptitiously watched the Captain place his own strap around his wrist and tighten it, then point his oblong box at the screen. The Captain glanced over at Loki-as-Bucky, smirked, and quipped, “It’s not gonna bite you, Buck.”

“It’s strange,” he argued.

“You get used to it,” the Captain said cheerfully. He selected something on the screen. Loud music blared at them, accompanied by bright colors and bold text.

Loki-as-Bucky cautiously slipped on the wrist strap. “What do I… do?”

Captain Rogers laughed. He favored Loki-as-Bucky with a warm, fond smile. “Point your Wii-mote at the screen. You have to pick a character.”

Loki-as-Bucky gingerly raised the ‘Wii-mote’ until it registered on the screen. He moved it around, getting a feel for the scope of its range. He wasn’t sure he liked this. 

“Once you pick a character,” Captain Rogers stated, “click ‘A’.”

Loki-as-Bucky searched for this ‘A’ on the screen, but could not find it. He frowned at the Captain.

Captain Rogers leaned over and pointed at the ‘A’ button on Loki’s Wii-mote. Captain Rogers smelled of green deodorant and aftershave, that horrid Irish Spring soap, and his cheap ‘linen’ scented laundry detergent. The combination of scents had become familiar, enticing. His finger nearly brushed Loki’s when he touched the Wii-mote. Loki was sad for his absence when Loki-as-Bucky pressed the ‘A’ button and Captain Rogers returned to his position half an arm’s length away.

They were brought to another screen. “Now choose a kart,” Captain Rogers instructed.

Loki had no idea what he was doing. He learned what he could from Rogers’s quick selection, but it wasn’t nearly enough. The options were dizzying.

“Do you want some help?” the Captain asked gently, leaning closer.

Loki-as-Bucky pulled a face. His Wii-mote hovered motionlessly in the air as he stared uncomprehendingly at the various options.

“Here.” Captain Rogers slid closer. He placed his hand over Loki’s and directed the Wii-mote to select a kart. Loki’s hand went along compliantly, every nerve singing. His eyes were not on the screen.

“That should do,” Rogers said, abruptly backing away to resume his spot. “That’s a pretty easy kart. It handles pretty well. You shouldn’t have any trouble steering.” He pressed a button, taking them to yet another screen. “I’ll choose an easy course for you to start off. Basically, all you need to know is this button steers, this button accelerates, and this button uses items.” He indicated the various buttons on his own Wii-mote. “You’ll get the hang of it,” he said confidently.

The screen counted down (3… 2… 1… Go!) and immediately, ‘Peach’ shot off the starting line on her motorcycle, leaving a floundering ‘Luigi’ to spin out on the starting line. 

This set the tone for their game. Captain Rogers had apparently grown tired of losing, and was now playing something at which he had an unfair advantage. ‘Peach’ spared ‘Luigi’ no mercy. Loki learned nearly every item’s effect by being hit by it. He’d grown quite sulky by the end of their first ‘cup.’

“Having fun?” Rogers asked, obviously pleased with himself.

“No,” Loki-as-Bucky said flatly.

Taken aback, Rogers asked, “Want to play something else?”

Again, Loki-as-Bucky pointedly eyed Risk.

Captain Rogers made a decision. “I know what you’ll like.” He slapped his thighs, stood up, took the current disc out of the glowing flat box, and replaced it with another. He resumed his seat half an arm’s length away. Loud music and bright colors greeted them once more. Much to Loki’s chagrin, a very familiar cast of characters splayed across the screen.

Loki-as-Bucky narrowed his eyes.

Captain Rogers guided him once more through picking a character. Captain Rogers once again chose where their characters were going, claiming it was ‘easy.’

Loki was mildly intrigued to discover that this was essentially a board game. He began to relax. At the end of his turn, a ‘mini game’ began. The screen helpfully explained exactly what to do.

It took a few turns, but Loki grew used to this ‘Mario Party.’ He even began to have fun-- especially when he beat the Captain.

“Hey!” Rogers exclaimed. Then, he laughed. “You’re getting pretty good at this.”

Loki-as-Bucky grinned ominously.

Captain Rogers grinned back, challenge flashing in his eyes.

The air between them crackled.

*

Mario Party and chess became recurring activities for them. However, try as he might, Loki-as-Bucky could not persuade the Captain to play another game of Risk. Captain Rogers would not explain his sudden aversion to this game which he so clearly excelled at.

Several days passed much the same way-- Captain Rogers would go out for his morning run, he would return, shower, and cook breakfast; Loki-as-Bucky would stretch for a while before taking a ‘run’ on the treadmill, he would shower, Captain Rogers would wash the dishes from breakfast, and they would while away the rest of the day playing chess or checkers or Mario Party or Wii Sports. 

Just as this was beginning to get monotonous, Captain Rogers announced that his friends Sam and Natasha would be visiting again that night, and bringing Cards Against Humanity with them. This sparked Loki’s interest, as the Captain surely knew it would.

That evening, surely enough, the ones called Sam and Natasha arrived with bags full of familiar and unfamiliar games. They brought a third friend with them, called ‘Clint.’ Loki recognized him instantly as the archer whose mind he had controlled via his staff. An icy chill ran through Loki’s veins. He recalled, in flashes, all the things he’d been forced to do, and all the things he’d forced others to do. He wondered for a wild moment if Clint would somehow recognize him-- or Natasha, she was sharp-- or Sam, he was intuitive. 

No. His cover could not be blown.

“You okay?” Clint asked. He’d just set down a large box labelled ‘pizza.’

Loki realized he’d been staring at Clint. “Sorry. I… remembered something.”

“You did?!” Captain Rogers rounded on him, grabbing him by the shoulders. “What did you remember?”

Loki-as-Bucky averted his eyes. “Something unpleasant.”

“Oh.” Captain Rogers’s grip loosened. 

“Something from your time as The Winter Soldier?” Natasha asked. Something in her tone conveyed wariness and sympathy all at once, while her eyes were sharp as flint.

For lack of a better answer, Loki-as-Bucky said “Yes.”

Tragedy engulfed the Captain’s face. “I’m sorry.” His hands slid down Loki-as-Bucky’s arms, lingering on his metal fingers.

“It’s no one’s fault,” Sam chided. “Neither of you have anything to apologize for. At least, not for that. So what are we doing before this pizza gets cold?”

Clint grinned and held up a DVD.

Natasha smirked and quirked an eyebrow. “Are you sure he’s ready for that?”

“It’s about being different,” Clint brushed off. “And besides, it’s a  _ classic.” _

“What’s a class-- oh.” Captain Rogers caught sight of the DVD case and his face turned pink.

“If the  _ case  _ is enough to scandalize him,” Natasha said, “I don’t think he can handle the movie.”

“What’s so scandalous about the case?” Loki-as-Bucky asked, pretending to be lost. Really, he just wanted to make the good Captain blush a brighter shade of pink.

Natasha shrugged. “Nothing, really. --Not anymore, at least.”

“It’s a  _ man  _ in  _ fishnet stockings!”  _ Captain Rogers exclaimed. The tips of his ears were red.

“Do you have a  _ problem  _ with that?” Sam teased.

“No, I just--!” Captain Rogers sputtered for a moment, not saying any real words.

Loki-as-Bucky made himself more comfortable, reclining openly on the couch. “I don’t see a problem with that.”

“You don’t?” Captain Rogers gave him a bewildered look.

Loki-as-Bucky shook his head slowly. He could practically  _ feel  _ the bombardment of tangled questions springing forth from the Captain’s mind.

“Come on,” Clint urged. “You  _ said  _ he’s into musical theatre!” he said to Sam. “He needs to be  _ initiated!”  _

“You’re not gonna hear me argue,” Sam said. He opened a 2-liter of Coca-Cola. It hissed.

“It’s a musical?” Rogers asked warily.

“Yes,” Natasha drawled slowly. “What did you  _ think  _ it was?”

Captain Rogers went red.

Natasha raised her eyebrows.

Loki-as-Bucky burst out laughing.

Clint looked around, confused. “What?”

Sam smirked as he poured the soda.

Captain Rogers fake-coughed and cleared his throat.

Clint squinted. “You thought it was a porno?!”

Captain Rogers shifted uncomfortably.

Loki-as-Bucky laughed harder.

Clint burst out laughing, too.

“Now, now,” Natasha chided, “I could see where he got the idea.”

“Tim Curry  _ is  _ pretty seductive,” Sam agreed.

“And he’s posing like  _ that,” _ Rogers added, “on the  _ case!” _

The pose, itself, was not very scandalous. A man in full makeup, a corset, heels, and fishnet stockings was reclined comfortably in a large pair of red-lipsticked lips, with one leg crossed over the other. There was nothing inherently sexual about the pose, only the outfit. And it wasn’t so much the outfit itself as the lack of other clothing.

Loki-as-Bucky shrugged. “Have you seen how they pose on  _ actual  _ pornos?”

Rogers gaped. “You’ve seen porn?!”

“Haven’t you?”

Rogers went red again.

Clint patted him on the back. “We all have, buddy. We’re all adults here. -So, what do you say? Want your Rocky Horror cherry popped?”

*

The Rocky Horror Picture show was much goofier than it advertised. It was not frightening at all, or even unsettling. If anything, it was campy. 

Loki wanted to watch it again. He said as much once it was over. 

Evidently, this was the way into Clint’s heart-- he professed his platonic love for him and declared them “bros.”

Because the movie had set the right tone, Natasha broke out another one of her games: Dirty Minds. This game featured a selection of misleading clues that described perfectly innocent things, but every clue was a double entendre. 

Loki was greatly intrigued that Captain Rogers proved to have the dirtiest mind of them all. 

He also felt a thrill that the good Captain kept glancing over at him when trying to puzzle out clues. 

Loki-as-Bucky kept smirking and giving him bedroom eyes. It flustered the good Captain greatly, much to Loki’s amusement.

They followed up Dirty Minds with Cards Against Humanity. Innuendoes flowed like a river between Loki and Rogers. If Loki didn’t know better, he would say the good Captain was flirting with him. 

He was certainly flirting back.

After their game ended and Natasha collected her things, Rogers volunteered to walk his friends out. The trio waved a friendly good-bye to Loki-as-Bucky. Rogers escorted them out the door, closing it behind them.

Loki was left alone in the apartment. The pleasant buzzing in his head faded for a moment; Rogers did not need to leave him here alone. He could have walked downstairs with them; Loki saw no harm in that. As far as they had come, Rogers still did not trust him enough to let him out of his apartment. The realization stung, and Loki was angry at the pain. He should not care whether the good Captain trusted him. He was, after all, here to betray him. He had never intended to stay.

“Have you told him yet?” Natasha asked outside.

Captain Rogers had forgotten that the window was open. Loki-as-Bucky crept closer, staying out of sight. He crouched next to the window.

“Told him what?” Rogers hedged.

“How you feel,” Natasha said.

Rogers sighed. “Nat…”

“What? It’s obvious to anyone with eyes.”

“I can vouch for that,” Clint chimed in. 

“Guys.” Rogers attempted to silence them.

“How long are you going to keep this up?” Natasha pressed. “Why won’t you tell him? Is he not mooning over you hard enough?”

“He’s not--” Rogers broke off and made a discontented noise. “It’s not that simple.”

“Why not? You like him. He probably likes you. Why not give it a shot?”

There was a pause. Then, Rogers answered, very serious. “Look-- I know things have come a long way since the ‘40s, but that wasn’t that long ago for us. 1945 feels to us like 2010 does to you. And in 1945, if you felt the way about a guy the way you’re supposed to feel about a dame, it wasn’t just frowned upon-- you could’ve been arrested, or beaten, or killed. You could lose your home, your job. You would’ve been dishonorably discharged from the army. You would lose all your friends. This isn’t something we take lightly.”

“Can I just say something?” Sam asked. He went on, “Look man, you should  _ never  _ take love lightly. I get that. But it’s not 1945 anymore. It’s 2015, and not only are you  _ not  _ going to be arrested or lose  _ any  _ of your friends, you’re a goddamn national hero. It would take a whole lot more than loving another man to dishonorably discharge you from  _ anything.” _

Rogers spoke again. “I appreciate the thought, Sam, but this is my decision to make.”

“And your decision,” Nat said, “is to not make a decision.”

“No, my decision is to wait until I’m sure before I say anything. If I lose Bucky again because of this, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“Steve, I really don’t think--”

He interrupted her. “With all due respect, Natasha, you don’t know him like I do.”

“With all due respect,” she said,  _ “You  _ don’t know him like  _ I  _ do.”

*

Loki-as-Bucky made a show of struggling to close the window and acting flustered as Captain Rogers re-entered the apartment. Rogers froze with his hand on the doorknob. Several emotions flickered across his face as he registered what this meant. He closed the door slowly behind himself. “How much did you hear?”

“You, uh…” Loki-as-Bucky tucked a strand of brown hair behind his ear. “You have something to tell me?” He made a show of being nervous.

Rogers cut off a sigh. “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to.”

Loki-as-Bucky stepped closer, tentative. “What is it?”

Rogers played with his hands. He looked up. “Have you ever…?” He didn’t finish that sentence. He averted his eyes again, clenched and unclenched his jaw. 

Loki-as-Bucky stepped closer. “Ever what?”

Rogers sighed. “Please don’t think any less of me because of this.”

“Why would I ever think less of you?” Another step closer.

Rogers averted his eyes. “Just promise me you won’t leave?”

“Why would I leave?” Another step closer. His heart beat faster. “Rogers?”

Their eyes met. “I didn’t… mean to tell you this way. I thought…”

“You thought what?” Loki-as-Bucky stepped closer. “That we’d have some big candle-lit dinner, violins playing in the background, and at the perfect moment, you’d- what? Ask me to dance?”

Rogers swallowed. “You knew?”

“Can’t say it bothers me.” Another step closer, the distance between them mere inches now.

Rogers scanned his face. “It doesn’t?”

Loki-as-Bucky tutted. “You really think something like that could ruin 90 years of friendship?”

“I… thought it might.”

“Well, it doesn’t. Especially-” Loki-as-Bucky wound his arms around the Captain’s waist “-since I feel that way too.”

Hope erupted across the Captain’s face. “You do?”

“You’re not going to run off on me now, are you?” Loki-as-Bucky teased.

“Bucky,” Rogers said thickly.

“Shh,” Loki-as-Bucky shushed him, leaning closer, keeping his lips pursed. “Just give me that kiss you’ve been waiting for.”

Rogers surged against Loki-as-Bucky’s body, capturing his mouth hotly beneath his own. He held Loki-as-Bucky tightly in place with both arms, as though he would never let him go. He worshipped Loki-as-Bucky’s mouth with fervent devotion, and surprising skill for one who looks so innocent. The way his tongue delved into Loki’s mouth, Loki could almost swear the good Captain had kissed as many people as Loki had-- perhaps even more. But Loki did not surmise much beyond that, because the good Captain’s kiss rendered his mind utterly blank, a sensation which Loki treasured. He’d never felt so peaceful.

Loki did not concentrate on much after that besides maintaining his glamour. He allowed the Captain to pick him up by the waist; he wrapped his legs around the Captain’s impressive torso and allowed the Captain to carry him to the bedroom. Their mouths did not separate until the Captain gently laid Loki-as-Bucky down on his bed, cold for a moment until the Captain spread his large, warm body over him and their mouths met once more. Their hearts beat together. Loki-as-Bucky wrapped his legs around the Captain once more. 

For someone who had never been with another man before, Captain Rogers displayed surprising expertise. He ran those warm, calloused hands all over Loki-as-Bucky’s body, dipping his thumbs in all the right places. He rucked up Loki-as-Bucky’s shirt until it became a nuisance, and the Captain removed the barrier. He removed his own as well. The moment his shirt had been tossed aside, he met Loki-as-Bucky’s lips in another searing kiss.

If Captain Rogers was at all uncertain of what to do, he didn’t let on. He ground against Loki-as-Bucky’s pelvis in rhythm with their kiss, giving Loki the perfect amount of friction. It wasn’t long before they were both gasping, clinging to each other in pleasure. Neither removed their pants or undergarments before the moment of climax; both of them were too swept up in the moment to care.

And even after their pleasure had been wrought out of them, and their heartbeats slowed and calmed, they could not stop kissing.

*

Captain Rogers fell asleep after their second orgasm.

In the aftermath, Loki was left lying awake for the rest of the night, so as not to disturb the good Captain. The high had worn off, and reality had set in.

He may effectively have just broken Rogers’s heart. When Loki left, Rogers wouldn’t understand. He would chase after a man who may or may not even be alive, much less return his feelings. There was no indication in the file, either way. Perhaps the good Captain’s longtime friend did return his feelings and had simply never told him all these years-- but then, perhaps not. And the Captain would be laboring under the false belief that James Barnes loved him back.

How had this gone so wrong? It was supposed to be a simple mission. He was supposed to fetch his staff-- in and out, a quick subterfuge. He was only supposed to be Barnes for a few days, long enough to sneak into the Avengers Tower and reclaim what was his.

Yet here he was, trapped under a heavy, muscular arm, pinned against the steadily rising and falling chest of Captain America. Morning sunlight filtered gently through the curtains, casting golden glimmers on the edges of the Captain’s closed eyelashes. His majestic face seemed to glow, relaxed as it was in sleep. Loki attempted to extricate himself, but even the mere motion of lifting his head seemed to trip an alarm in the Captain’s brain, because suddenly his eyes were open and his expression serious. His arm tightened reflexively around Loki, trapping him in place.

Loki-as-Bucky winced in discomfort.

“Sorry,” the Captain apologized, loosening his grip. “I, uh. Heh. -I had to make sure you were still there.”

“I’m still here,” Loki-as-Bucky reassured him in a flat monotone.

Rogers gave him a vulnerable half-smile. Those searching blue eyes traced over and over Loki’s face, his chest, his arm. He drank Loki in like he hadn’t seen him in years, even though they’d just spent the night together. “Part of me wasn’t sure this was real,” Rogers admitted.

“It’s very real.” 

Rogers traced a knuckle along the side of Loki-as-Bucky’s face, sending a shiver up his spine. Loki closed his eyes, not wanting to take in the heartbreaking need and sincerity in the Captain’s eyes. This was all wrong. “I missed you,” Steve whispered. 

Loki swallowed, unable to speak.

Captain Rogers wound his fingers through Loki-as-Bucky’s hair, pulled him forward, and gently kissed his forehead. “I’m so glad you came back,” he whispered, touching his forehead against Loki-as-Bucky’s.

Something tripped in Loki-as-Bucky’s chest. Heat flooded through him, followed quickly by a surge of icy cold: none of these professions were meant for him. They were all meant for--

“Bucky,” the Captain said in that emotional, throaty voice that he only used when speaking to Bucky.

Loki-as-Bucky hesitantly met his eyes.

The Captain cradled Loki-as-Bucky’s face. “I mean it. From now on, I want you by my side, every day, every battle, everywhere we go. God, Buck I-- I never want to let you out of my sight again.”

Loki-as-Bucky gave him a wobbly half-smile. “Don’t you think that’s a bit overkill?”

“Overkill?” the Captain objected. “Last time I let you out of my sight, I didn’t see you again for months. The time before that, you tried to kill me. And the time before that… Bucky, I am so sorry. I should have looked for you. I should have-- jumped off that train after you, sent out a search party, done  _ something  _ other than go feel sorry for myself in that bombed-out bar.”

“Rogers,” Loki-as-Bucky objected.

“Steve,” the Captain corrected. “Please… call me Steve. Like you used to.”

Loki-as-Bucky grimaced. “- _ Steve.”  _ The name left a thrilling tingle on his tongue. He enjoyed the way his lower lip vibrated on the ‘v’ at the end. 

The Captain seemed to enjoy the sound of it as well, if the widening of those warm, dark pupils meant anything. Or perhaps the sharp, quiet intake of breath, or the way his lips hung slightly open.

Loki-as-Bucky tore his gaze upward, away from the Captain’s mouth. “I told you before,” he said, managing his Brooklyn drawl, “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

“But Bucky--”

“Steve,” Loki-as-Bucky repeated. “If anyone should be sorry, it’s me.”

Captain Rogers captured his face and kissed Loki-as-Bucky on the mouth. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aka "the chapter in which it all goes to shit"
> 
> spoilers for Megamind

Movie nights had become a regular occurrence-- which is to say, Captain Rogers watched a movie nearly every night, to which Loki-as-Bucky was always cordially invited.

Loki had sat through Anastasia, which was uncomfortable enough-- the story of a con-man who lies to the heroine, leads her on by false pretenses, and once he is found out, is painfully rejected, until he proves he is more than just a liar, and the heroine loves him back.

The movie they were currently watching was hitting so close to home that Loki wanted to leave the room. He wondered if he’d slipped up somewhere, if the Captain had found him out. This film was the story of a man with blue skin who knew nothing but pain and rejection. He was not from this planet, nor was his nemesis, and yet his nemesis was universally adored, despite being a lunkhead goody-two-shoes whose muscles were probably ten times the size of his brain. The man with blue skin had a plot to take over the world. He wore leather. And he disguised himself as a mortal man in order to woo a woman who, once she discovered his lie, asked how he could _ever_ have thought she would love him back.

“Is this almost over?” Loki-as-Bucky asked, uncomfortable.

“No,” Captain Rogers responded as the blue-skinned man watched Roxanne Ritchi walk away in the rain. “Why? Are you hungry?”

“No,” Loki-as-Bucky answered. His fists tightened in his lap.

Captain Rogers reached out and placed a large, warm hand over one of Loki’s. “It gets better,” he informed him.

“You’ve seen this before?”

“No, but Sam says it has a happy ending.” Captain Rogers glanced at him.

Loki-as-Bucky suffered through the rest of the movie, massively uncomfortable even when Megamind redeemed himself and apparently won the heart of Roxanne Ritchi.

“What did you think?” came the dreaded question.

“Are you trying to tell me something, Rogers?”

Captain Rogers gave him a bashful smile. “You noticed, huh?”

Suffice to say, this was not the response Loki had been expecting. He frowned.

Captain Rogers squeezed the hand he was still holding. “It means that even if you’re not happy about your past, even if you feel like you don’t fit in here, there will always be people who love you.”

“People who..?” Loki-as-Bucky met Rogers’s eyes, startled.

Captain Rogers favored him with a lopsided smile. “Love you. Yes.”

“So, you’re saying…”

“I’m saying I love you, no matter what.”

“Even…” Loki knew this was a stupid thing to say, but he needed to know. “Even if I was, say, an alien with the complexion of a popular primary color?”

Captain Rogers grinned and laughed softly. “Even then,” he said, clearly thinking that last comment was a joke.

This should have put Loki at ease, but instead, he only felt worse. “Rogers--”

The Captain’s cell phone rang.

Rogers glanced at the screen. “I’ve gotta take this,” he apologized. He held the phone to his ear as he stood, and answered as he left the room.

Loki laid his head back against the couch. He let out a deep sigh. That had been close. He’d almost given himself away. Movie or not, there was no way Captain America could ever love _him._ He needed to remember who he was, and why he was here.

Some part of him hoped that this phone call would be a call to battle, one which would take the Captain out of the house. He was confident in his ability to persuade the Captain that it would be wiser to leave together. And once they were out on the battlefield, he would concoct some way to return to the Tower.

Captain Rogers reentered the room looking haggard. Loki-as-Bucky sat up straight on the couch. “What is it?”

Captain Rogers rubbed his eyes. “Peggy. She… She took a turn for the worse.”

Loki-as-Bucky’s eyebrows drew together. “I’m sorry.”

Captain Rogers gave him that sad, lonely smile. “Do you remember her at all?”

Loki-as-Bucky shook his head ‘no.’

Captain Rogers sat beside him. The couch cushions sank under the Captain’s weight, tilting Loki-as-Bucky towards him. Both men shifted closer to each other. Loki-as-Bucky laid a hand on the Captain’s forearm. The Captain favored him with another sad smile. He started off slow, struggling to find the words, but the trickle of prose flowed into a river from the Captain’s lips as he recalled memory after memory of Peggy Carter.

Loki-as-Bucky let the Captain speak. The side of Loki-as-Bucky’s mouth curled upward in fondness as the Captain became progressively more animated and less sad; the timbre of his voice carried Loki-as-Bucky through a seemingly endless parade of glorious mischief-laden memories. Peggy Carter, he learned, was a woman who would achieve her goals through any means possible, even if those means involved trickery, deception, or even breaking the law. It tickled Loki greatly that the Captain seemed to endorse this behavior. Captain Rogers recalled all sorts of instances where he and Peggy Carter went under their superior officer’s nose, achieved their goals, got what they wanted, and made each other laugh in the process.

Every memory reminded him of another moment, another prank, another victory. Captain Rogers had loved this woman, and still did; it was painfully obvious. Loki found himself drifting in the timbre of the Captain’s voice, drawn into his stories, living these memories alongside him, with an ever-growing fondness and admiration for both Peggy Carter and the man recalling her legacy.

Captain Rogers eventually exhausted himself and fell asleep with his head resting on Loki-as-Bucky’s metal shoulder. Loki-as-Bucky shifted so the Captain had a more suitable pillow.

He pondered how he’d gotten here, sitting on this couch in a weathered gray t-shirt and mint-green pajama pants with little cartoon dogs on them, with Captain America peacefully dozing on his shoulder in a very similar outfit.

Loki resigned himself to a potentially sleepless night. The moment he dozed off, his glamour would fade. It would not do anyone any good for the Captain to wake up, only to realize he’d been cozying up to the God of Lies.

No, the better thing to do was to let the Captain sleep. If Loki-as-Bucky’s arm found its way around the Captain’s upper back, if he idly stroked the Captain’s spine in-between his shoulder blades, if he slowly turned his head, if his gaze lingered too long on those curly brown eyelashes, if he gently pressed a kiss against the Captain’s forehead before resting his cheek there, no one would ever be the wiser.

Loki reached for the television remote and turned the volume down low. He let the Midgardian Science Channel drown out his thoughts.

*

“Why don’t _you_ make breakfast this morning,” Rogers offered.

“Sure I won’t burn the house down?” Loki-as-Bucky teased.

“Pretty sure.” He smiled. “I trust you.”

Loki’s heart skipped a beat. “Well. I can’t cook if I don’t know what I’m making.”

“How about… eggs, sunny-side up?”

Loki-as-Bucky cringed. “Do they _have_ to be sunny?”

Rogers snickered. “All right-- scrambled.”

“Now, scrambling,” Loki-as-Bucky quipped, “I can do.” Truly, he had no such confidence. However, he’d eaten the Midgardian dish before, and it seemed quite difficult to fuck up.

“I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

Loki tried not to let his eyes stray to Rogers’s shirtless torso, and looked away the second Rogers caught him. He could feel Rogers’s laughter. It felt like sunlight.

Loki-as-Bucky headed to the kitchen.

The eggs were easy enough to find, as was the pan, and the spatula. He didn’t have much practice cracking eggs-- he didn’t do much cooking on Asgard; he was royalty, for pity’s sake-- and there hadn’t been much call for him too cook on Midgard. However, he’d certainly observed the art of cooking before. He was confident that he knew the basics.

Loki cracked the eggs into the pan and turned the dial on the burner. He was uncertain how far to turn the dial. He left it near the middle, just off to one side, to make it look like he knew what he was doing.

Captain Rogers joined him in the kitchen as the eggs began to sizzle.

Loki-as-Bucky began shuffling the eggs around in the pan with his spatula.

“Did you add any salt?” Rogers asked casually. “Pepper?”

Loki-as-Bucky flinched. His cheeks tinted with shame.

“That’s all right,” Rogers said, “I’ll get it.”

Rogers grabbed the salt and pepper shakers from the table and leaned in behind Loki-as-Bucky, reached around him, and shook seasoning into the pan. His body heat practically burned through the back of Loki’s borrowed shirt.

Rogers backed away. “Cheese?” he asked casually.

“Sure,” Loki-as-Bucky replied automatically, feeling far too warm. He noticed a shard of egg shell near the edge of the pan. Without thinking, he reached to pluck it out. Immediately, he withdrew his left hand, with an audible wince.

“Are you okay?” Rogers asked, appearing at his side. “Still sensitive to heat?”

Loki looked down at his ‘metal’ hand. He nodded.

“Here, let me hold the handle.” Rogers held the handle to the pan as Loki moved the eggs around with the spatula. Rogers stood near enough to feel his heat again. “Looks like they’re almost done,” he noted, voice low and close.

“Yes,” Loki agreed faintly.

Rogers reached his other arm around Loki’s waist to turn the dial to its ‘off’ position. He remained there, with one hand touching the lip of the stovetop, and one braced against the counter. “They look great,” he said.

“A bit overdone, I think.”

Rogers’s mouth was very close to the side of Loki’s neck. “Mmm, a little,” he teased. “I’ve had worse.”

Loki chuckled. “You flatter me,” he said breathlessly.

“I’d like to do more than flatter you,” Rogers said, trailing his mouth up Loki’s neck without actually touching it, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. He traced the path back down, coming ever-so-gradually closer until his lips came to rest lightly above the edge of Loki’s collar.

“Steve,” Loki breathed.

“Bucky,” came the throaty reply.

Loki’s gut went cold. He ducked from out of Rogers’s embrace. “I--” He couldn’t look at Rogers’s confusion, his hurt, his betrayal. “I can’t do this.” He backed away.

“Bucky-” Captain Rogers reached after him.

“No-!” Loki-as-Bucky shook his head. He backed out of the kitchen and headed to Rogers’s room, which they’d been sharing the past several (sleepless) nights. He slammed the door shut behind him and pressed his back to it.

Rogers pressed himself against the door from the other side. “Bucky, please! Let’s talk about this!”

“I NEED TO BE ALONE!” Loki replied in Bucky’s voice. He could _feel_ the sting of pain this caused. “I,” Loki repeated, still using his stolen voice, “I need to be alone.”

Loki could _feel_ the Captain’s reticence, his hesitation, his unwillingness to leave. He could _feel_ the Captain’s palm lingering on the door before he slowly walked away.

Loki sank to the ground, sitting with his back against the door. He stared at his hands. He reminded himself who he was, and why he’d come here.

His name was Loki Laufeyson, and he had come for his staff.

*

Loki Laufeyson almost cried when he opened the bedroom door. There, upon the ground, was his portion of the scrambled eggs, accompanied by a fork, a glass of orange juice, and a note that said ‘Gone out. Be back soon.’

Loki took the meal into the bedroom and closed the door. He slipped back out of his glamour and ate slowly, picking at his food. The eggs were acceptable- a bit burnt on the bottom, and lacking cheese, but otherwise not bad. They’d been sitting out for a while, so they were slightly cold. But that wasn’t the problem.

When Captain Rogers returned, he found Loki-as-Bucky sulking in the kitchen. Rogers gently set his grocery sacks on the counter. “Can we talk?”

“About what?” Loki-as-Bucky asked without looking at him.

Rogers sighed. “I made a mistake. I overstepped my boundaries, and I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Loki-as-Bucky’s mouth twisted uncertainly. “You think this is about _boundaries?”_

“What else would it be about?”

Loki-as-Bucky uncrossed his arms. “No, you’re right. This _is_ about boundaries. When are you ever gonna let me out of here? I ask you every day, and the answer is always no.”

“Bucky, we’ve been over this…”

“No. No, we haven’t. What you have given me is a long list of thin excuses, none of which merit cooping me up in here for days on end. You have refused, time and again, to even so much as let me accompany you on your morning run. Do you have _any_ idea how it feels not to be allowed outside? To not be allowed outside of these four walls? I feel _trapped._ I feel _suffocated._ I didn’t come all this way just so that I could trade one prison cell for another!”

Rogers stared at him with those tragic eyes, taken aback. “Bucky… I never meant to make you feel like you couldn’t leave.”

“Well, I _can’t!_ You keep watch over me _constantly,_ day and night, and it’s _exhausting!_ When am I going to be allowed to see the Avengers Tower? When am I going to go _anywhere,_ for that matter?!”

Rogers worried his mouth a lot. He knitted his eyebrows together, shifted his weight, looked off into the distance, then at the ground. But he didn’t answer.

“WHY WON’T YOU LET ME _LEAVE?!_ ”

At least Rogers had the courtesy to wince. “For protection,” he said.

“Protection,” Loki-as-Bucky scoffed. “So you don’t trust me, _that’s_ what you’re saying?” Loki-as-Bucky stepped ominously closer. “I can’t be _trusted_ around other people?”

“No.” Rogers looked him dead in the eye. _“You._ I… want to protect _you.”_

Loki-as-Bucky lost some of his steam. “Me?” he repeated incredulously.

Rogers stepped closer, reaching out, but he withdrew his hand and looked away. “Hydra is still out there. The men that did those things to you-- they’re still out there, and they’re looking for you. And if they ever laid a hand on you again, I could never forgive myself.”

“So you think to protect me by, what? Becoming a hermit?”

“It’s not like that, I--”

Loki-as-Bucky turned, resting his back against the counter. “Steve… you can’t keep me here forever. They might find me, or they might not, but you’re never going to find them if you stay here. And if you never find them, how can I exact my revenge?”

Rogers smirked sadly. His shoulder hovered close.

Loki-as-Bucky allowed their shoulders to touch; he leaned into the contact. He gave Captain Rogers a reassuring smile.

Captain Rogers mirrored his smile. “You’re right,” he admitted at last. “I’m sorry. I should have told you.”

Loki-as-Bucky found himself gravitating towards him again; he yearned to kiss the Captain’s cheek. Instead, he said in a low voice, “Then why don’t you make it up to me by taking me for a walk?”

*

Two years ago, if someone had told Loki that he would be walking through Central Park arm-in-arm with Captain America, he would have laughed right in their face. And yet here he was, in the guise of Bucky Barnes, wearing yet another borrowed outfit, with his arm hooked comfortably around the elbow of Steve Rogers. Loki couldn’t help his eyes repeatedly straying to the Captain’s handsome visage. The late-morning sunlight was doing him all kinds of favors.

Rogers met his glances occasionally. His mood seemed to improve, and his ache to be soothed away, with every modicum of eye contact. After they rounded a corner, Rogers asked, “Remember the first time we went to Central Park, back when we were kids?”

Loki-as-Bucky shook his head ‘no.’

The Captain smiled that sad, far-away smile, fondness in his eyes, as he recalled “You were nine, and I was eight. We gave our parents the slip, told ‘em we were going to ‘the park.’ They thought we were going to the park around the corner. But instead, you took me here. There was… a turtle you wanted to show me. You’d seen it about a week before, and thought it was the coolest thing. You were trying to convince me to feed it… -Bucky, are you okay?”

Loki-as-Bucky had tensed. Without noticing, his casual stroll had transformed into a prowl. He wound his arm through the Captain’s, hooked elbows, and leaned close. “We’re being followed.”

The Captain stood up straighter. His face slipped into an expression worthy of the finest warrior. “How many of them?”

“At least two.” Loki-as-Bucky turned his face towards the Captain, gave him a convincing smile, and glanced briefly behind them before facing forward once more. “Maybe more.”

The Captain’s body curved protectively towards him as the walked. “Friend or foe.”

“Foe.” Loki-as-Bucky swallowed. “And they’re getting closer.”

“How many knives do you have on you?”

“Currently?” Loki-as-Bucky answered grimly, “One.”

“Do you think that’s enough?” The Captain steered them into an oncoming stream of people. The crowd parted only slightly to allow them through.

“Under normal circumstances, yes.” Loki-as-Bucky glanced to the side. “Six.”

The Captain cursed under his breath. “Think you can take them?”

“What about you?”

The Captain’s expression was as determined as it was grim. His jaw set. He led them through the tail-end of the crowd. There was a gap of about twenty feet before the next small clump of people.

“Captain..?”

“Steve,” he corrected.

“Steve,” Loki-as-Bucky said uncertainly. “You aren’t going to fight these men if it means them killing you..?”

“I’ll do whatever it takes.”

No sooner had the words left the Captain’s mouth than the first bullet flew. Loki barely dodged it. The bullet whizzed past them. Another bullet grazed the Captain’s arm, leaving a thin red streak. Blood beaded at the end of the streak.

Six men in black and gray closed in around them. Loki-as-Bucky stood back-to-back with Captain Rogers. Tense silence laid over them like a lead blanket. Then, the first man lunged forward. He applied a taser to Loki’s false metal arm.

Loki yanked his arm away just before the flesh began to burn. He snarled at their assailant, readying to lunge, but suddenly the man was knocked aside by a blur of red and gold. Tony Stark landed before them, palms open, aimed at the Hydra agents. “That’s enough.”

“Stark?” Loki-as-Bucky remarked with surprise.

Tony ignored him. “Can’t a guy take a walk in the park without being bothered?” he snarked. He blasted a Hydra agent to his knees. Another lunged at him, taser ready. Stark rounded on the man and blasted him as well. “I guess not,” he said.

“Tony,” Steve said with relief. He’d just punched a Hydra agent unconscious. “How many are there?”

“I’m counting… eight, plus that helicopter approaching. But they’re not really our main concern right now.”

Something crashed into the ground nearby, spraying huge chunks of dirt and grass. One chunk landed just short of the trio.

Steve and Loki-as-Bucky turned to see what had caused the disturbance.

“Not sure how you didn’t notice the giant swamp monster,” Tony said, “but it’s eaten three people already, and Hulk got it just before it could eat the fourth.”

A deep, burbling wail echoed across the park. Something large and slimy reared its head. In the distance, Thor slammed his hammer down on top of the monster. The monster screamed in protest. A large chunk of grayish-green flesh slid down its body.

Steve stood protectively near Loki-as-Bucky, as though holding an imaginary shield. “That may be _your_ main concern,” he said, “but-”

Tony cut him off. “-Yeah, yeah, your cyber boyfriend. We’ll keep him safe too.”

Loki-as-Bucky bristled. “I can take care of myself, thank you.”

“Yeesh. You two really _are_ two peas in a pod.” Tony ducked a chunk of turf. It thudded onto the ground behind him, spraying dirt in a wide swath on the pavement. “Do what you want, Cap, but we could really use the backup here.”

With that, Tony took off and rejoined the battle with the giant swamp monster. Were this another place, another time, Loki may have enjoyed the sport. However, he had other priorities in mind.

The helicopter hovered nearby. A trail of black-clad men poured out of it, scaling down its ladder and hopping to the ground. All of them raised guns and aimed them at Steve and Loki-as-Bucky.

“It’s all over,” one of the men said, smiling confidently. He began barking out a sequence of seemingly unrelated words in Russian. “Longing! Rusted! Furnace! Daybreak!” He swaggered closer with every word. “Seventeen! Benign!”

Sweat trickled down the back of Loki’s neck. He was uncertain what they were doing. He did not have much energy to summon a spell, and the moment he did, his cover would be blown, unless he was very careful. He ran through his mind, racing for a spell he could use. Nothing seemed inconspicuous enough to escape the Captain’s notice.

The man stood much closer now. “Kneel,” he commanded.

_“You_ kneel,” Loki-as-Bucky growled.

The man frowned, startled.

Loki-as-Bucky punched him with all his might.

The man hit the ground, reeling.

“The Asset no longer responds to his conditioning!” one of the men said in Russian. “The Asset must be terminated.”

“NO!” Steve jumped in front of Loki-as-Bucky just as they all raised their guns once more to shoot. A trigger clicked.

Time seemed to stop. Loki saw the bullets heading for Captain Rogers, bullets meant for him. He had no time to think. Loki grabbed the Captain and transported them across the clearing, to a spot they’d passed earlier.

Captain Rogers frowned. He did not recognize his surroundings. It took him a moment to register that they had moved. “Bucky?” he asked in confusion. It was rather adorable that his first instinct was to check to make sure that Bucky was okay.

“Captain Rogers.” Loki-as-Bucky swayed on his feet. Strange… he should not be dizzy after exerting so little magic. Perhaps he had been away from Asgard too long.

Captain Rogers frowned in alarm. “Bucky, you’re bleeding!”

Loki dreamily looked down. His arm had been struck several times. It must have happened while he was blocking the good Captain’s chest. “Oh,” he observed. “So I am.”

A ground-shaking roar alerted them to the much-closer presence of the giant swamp monster. With one swipe of its watery appendage, it smashed the Hydra agents and their helicopter. The impact of its arm on the ground caused a shockwave that sent Loki-as-Bucky stumbling backwards towards the water.

“BUCKY!” Steve shouted. He reached out towards him.

The swamp monster heard the Captain’s cry. It rounded on him with surprising speed. Captain Rogers didn’t notice its looming shadow, or how close it had come.

Loki knew he needed to act fast. He wrapped his arms around the Captain once more (a soft gasp, “Bucky?”) and transported them to another location, roughly ten meters away. It was all he could do. He’d used the last of his strength.

“Bucky?” Captain Rogers asked, his adorably creased eyebrows swimming far away, his face blocked out by the sun.

Loki smiled weakly as everything went black.

*

*

When Loki awoke, he had no idea where he was. The walls were blank, the lighting cold and clinical. His wrists were cuffed. His arm stung something awful. He was still wearing his borrowed gray t-shirt. It fit oddly over his clothes.

“So,” snapped Stark’s voice. “You’re awake.”

“I-” Loki’s cuffs crackled with electricity. The force of it knocked him back and left him wincing in pain.

“Exactly what the fuck were you doing?” Stark pressed. “No, seriously. What the fuck were you hoping to accomplish? Do you have _any_ idea the damage you’ve done?”

“I… don’t quite follow.”

“Cap!” Stark gestured widely. “Look, I’m not going to pretend to ‘get’ his weird obsession with the Soviet Russian Murder-bot-- I’m not even going to pretend I give two shits about the guy; Barnes is _dead_ as far as I’m concerned-- but just exactly _what_ the fuck were you hoping to accomplish by masquerading as Cap’s dead boyfriend? Hmm? Because far as I can see it, this whole thing was a pointless exercise in breaking the Captain’s heart.”

“He said they were only friends,” Loki stated slowly.

Stark reached a whole new level of pissed off. “I don’t _care_ if they’re just friends. What _I_ care about is that _you_ tricked _my_ friend into thinking that _his_ friend was back from the dead, or Aruba, or _wherever_ the fuck he’s gone-- you tricked him into thinking that he’s okay, you stopped Cap from searching for him because he thought he’d _found_ him-- god, Cap thought _Barnes_ had come to _him_ \-- and _you_ actually got Cap to believe that not only was Barnes okay, but that he was _recovering--_ well, you made one giant misstep, buddy. Cap has doubled down on his search for Bucky. So whatever the fuck you were planning, it’s over. Didn’t work. And you’ve managed to piss off _all_ of the Avengers, _again._ So you’ve got that going for you.”

Loki stared numbly at the wall. He ignored the way his heart ached, or how it felt like a slap when Stark had said that Cap had doubled down on his search for his long-lost friend.

“You’re not even going to say anything?” Stark gestured in disbelief. “You pretend to be Barnes for a fucking month, and for what? Are you working for Hydra?? Is that it? Some sort of deal with the devil, so to speak? Although, no-- if you were working for Hydra, they would have been in on this whole deception thing, wouldn’t they. And you wouldn’t have been tased and left lying in Central Park with a bullet in your arm.”

“He left me..?” Loki asked quietly.

“You bet your ass he left you. You should’ve seen his face when he turned around. God, I have _never_ seen him so heartbroken. It’s lucky Rhodey and I showed up there when we did, who _knows_ what would’ve happened to him if we didn’t. And, what the fuck, you’re supposed to be a _god._ How do you suck so much at fighting? -No, never mind, don’t answer that. I don’t care. The point is, you hurt Steve, so now, you’re going to wait in this high-tech prison-- designed just for Asgardians, lucky you-- until your brother gets here, and when we explain this whole thing to him, you’re going to regret ever _looking_ at Spangles.”

Loki stared at the wall, despondent.

Stark threw his hands in the air. “Where’s the taunting? The witty responses? I thought we had a _thing_ going!”

The Captain had seen him unconscious. He’d seen Loki for who he truly was, and he’d left him on the ground.

“Hello?” Stark knocked on the glass.

Loki didn’t respond.

“Fine. But just so you know? Thor is on his way, and he is _not_ going to be happy to see you.”

*

“Loki,” Thor kept saying, “why?”

Loki sighed. He’d explained himself many times, each time with an increasing amount of truth, but Thor had annoyed him to the point of complete honesty. “I told you-- because I wanted to recover what is mine. _My_ staff is being held at the Avengers Tower. Taking on the guise of Barnes seemed the simplest way to slip in and out without arousing suspicion.”

“Why move in with Captain Rogers?” Thor pressed. “Why earn his trust? Why go after his heart?”

Loki rolled his eyes. He could really do without the lecture. “It was necessary to maintain my cover,” he gritted out.

“Why continue for so long?”

“Because. I didn’t. Have. My _staff.”_

“Why not talk him into leaving the apartment sooner? Why did you let him believe all that time that you were his friend?”

“BECAUSE OF THE WAY HE LOOKED AT ME!” Loki cried. “Because, for the first time in my life, someone was looking at me as though they _cared._ As though I _mattered._ Because someone was _finally_ looking at _me_ like _I_ was the most important person in the world. And even though I hated myself for it, I grew addicted to the feeling. Even though I knew it was meant for someone else. I continued the ruse because I would do _untold_ things just so he’d look at me like that, _one_ more time.”

Something dawned on Thor’s face. “Brother…”

“Don’t call me that!” Loki spat.

“...You _love_ him.”

Loki closed his mouth. He pressed his lips together. He recalled the way Rogers’s head fit into the crook of his shoulder, the way his hair smelled. He recalled the ache in his chest as he’d stayed up all night, just so the Captain would wake in the morning, still believing he was Bucky.

“Does he know?” Thor asked, eyebrows pressed together.

“Know what.”

“That you…?” Thor wheeled his hands, a pithy substitute for finishing his sentence.

“What would it matter,” Loki pointed out crisply, “seeing as I am not actually his loved one?”

It was at this point that their vehicle came to a stop. Armed Asgardians opened the armored doors and led the manacled-and-chained Loki out by the arms, stone-faced and serious.

Loki allowed them to lead him to his cell without a fight.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so it ends

**Several Months Later**

Loki had no idea how much time had passed. Down in the dungeon, there were no windows, no sunrise or sunset by which to track the time. He could only guess at the passing of the guards, which was marginally helpful to keep track of the hours, but as to how many hours had passed? It had been thousands.

Hour after hour had eroded by, leaving Loki more bitter and despondent. His boredom had given way to fantasy. It was not uncommon to find him curled away from the front of his cell, his arms wrapped around a pillow. Tainted memories were his only comfort.

He’d long ago accepted his feelings. At first, they had enraged him with frustration. He did not want to feel such obligation or attachment to someone so mortal. Bitterness and pain seeped in as he realized his feelings would never be returned, that the Captain’s devotion had been as fake and as frail as his disguise, and given the depth and the nature of Loki’s prolonged lie, he doubted the Captain would ever look upon him with anything but disdain.

“You have a visitor,” a muffled voice announced beyond his door.

“A visitor?” Loki responded, still facing the back of his cell.

The guard awaited his response.

“Send them in.” Loki expected it was probably Thor. Thor had been his only company, except the guards. And terrible company at that. Oh, how Loki longed for decent company. How Loki longed for…

“Loki,” the Captain’s voice said.

Loki stilled.

“Say something if you can hear me. I’m not sure if this glass is soundproof,” the Captain said.

Loki slowly turned. Sure enough, Captain Rogers stood outside his cell, hair ruffled, shirt too tight, jeans fitted, boots planted on Asgardian ground. Loki’s eyes tracked back up the Captain’s body. His chest felt tight. “How are you here?” Loki whispered.

“Thor brought me. I’m guessing if I can hear you, you can hear me?”

Loki nodded once.

The Captain let out a breath. He stepped closer, just a hair shy of fogging the glass. His hands resided in his pockets, but that did not disguise their restlessness. “We found him,” he began, “-Bucky.”

Loki waited.

“He was… He was being hunted, by Hydra. They framed him for a crime he didn’t commit, to draw him out in the open. It worked.

“It was great, having him fight by my side again. He was reluctant at first, thought he wasn’t safe around anybody, but… He came around.

“He remembered a lot of things- mostly things he didn’t want to remember, from his time as The Winter Soldier- but he remembered things about me, about our childhood. I thought that meant we’d be back to our old team again, laughing, bouncing jokes off of each other… but something was off between us, the whole time. I kept hoping for these responses from him that he wouldn’t give. And it kept hitting me, over and over again, that the one I was missing… He wasn’t coming back.” The Captain kicked a pebble on the ground. “You really made me believe…” He shut his mouth. He swallowed.

“If I may speak…”

“You could,” the Captain said, “but how do I know I can trust anything you say?”

Loki digested this for a moment. Something didn’t add up. The Captain wasn’t telling him something. “If you didn’t come to speak with me, then why are you here? To gloat? To rub it in my face that you and your loved one are living happily ever after while I bore myself to dementia wasting away in this Asgardian prison?”

The Captain shifted his weight. He leaned closer to the glass. “We’re not. Someone from Hydra got to Bucky, turned him back into The Winter Soldier. As soon as Bucky was himself again, he insisted that he be put under until he can be safe around other people again. He doesn’t trust himself not to become The Winter Soldier.”

“So he’s decided to sleep it off?”

“No-- he’s waiting until someone develops the technology to permanently undo his brainwashing.”

“That technology may be here sooner than you think,” Loki murmured.

“What?” The Captain stepped up to the glass.

Loki shook his head. “There may be… an ancient, magical artifact that would restore his memories and undo what has been done to him. However, it would take a master to control, and even I do not possess adequate prowess to operate it to its full potential, and even if the stone _were_ used, magic of that magnitude always requires a price, and there is no guarantee it wouldn’t cause him eternal misery.”

“That’s a chance I’m willing to take.”

Loki’s mouth ticked up sadly. “I thought as much.”

“Where is it?”

Loki raised his head. “And who is going to operate it? You?”

“No, you.”

Loki sat up straighter. “Are you sure that’s wise..?”

“You know where it is. You know how it works. You can help me save Bucky.”

Loki laughed incredulously. “And what makes you think I would want to do that?”

The Captain paused. “-It would get you out of prison.”

“And for what? To do your bidding? To run on this fool’s errand, only to cause more pain and destruction, get blamed for everything, and end up back here?”

“Loki,” the Captain warned.

Loki stood and moved several paces forward. “Is that why you’ve come here? To offer to use me for your own gains, as though I have no free will of my own?”

“I can’t trust you,” the Captain said.

“And pray tell, why is that?”

“You know why.”

“Then I’m sure I’ll agree with you when you explain.”

The Captain squared his jaw. “You impersonated someone very important to me, for reasons I _still_ don’t understand. You got to know my friends, my teammates, you-- you got to know me well enough, you probably could have impersonated _me._ Was that your plan? To pretend you were me, so that you could kill all of my friends, like you tried to do last time?”

“What do you mean,” Loki said crisply, “last time?”

Those blue eyes flashed. “When you opened a portal to Alien Hell and destroyed a huge portion of New York City?”

“That wasn’t me.”

Captain Rogers squinted incredulously at him. “Who was it, your evil twin?”

Loki played the only card he had left. “I was under someone’s control.” He watched this sink in; the doubt stung. “The mad titan, Thanos, has a plot to take over the entire universe. He has vast armies under his control. He has more power than you can imagine. He gave me a staff which allowed me to control other people’s minds, but it wasn’t truly my will flowing through them. The staff was controlling me, as well. It controls anyone who holds it. Even being _near_ the stone is enough for some people to go mad-- _that_ was the means of Thanos’ control. He forced me to do things I did not want to do. The whole while, it felt as though I was screaming behind a glass wall, and no one could hear me. At times, I almost thought I was in control, but such was the deviousness of his scheme-- to give me false control, false power. That is why I sought to infiltrate your Tower. You have my staff. You hold a powerful weapon which I want to destroy.”

“Destroy,” the Captain echoed. “You… were trying to _save_ us?”

“I wouldn’t say that. It’s moreso that I want revenge against Thanos. If he does not regain control of the mind stone, his power will be incomplete. He will be defeatable.”

“Right. You want revenge because he controlled you. Tortured you. Made you… do things against your will.”

“Exactly.”

The Captain swiveled abruptly. “Guard!” he called. “Let me in!”

The guard frowned at him. “I don’t think that’s wise.”

“To Hell with wise. Let me in.”

The guard looked between the resolve-filled Captain and the confused Loki. The Captain radiated intensity. The guard scrutinized the Captain. “If I let you in there, he could kill you before anyone has the chance to stop him.”

“I’m well aware of the risks.”

The guard gave them one more long, suspicious look. Loki appeared innocent enough. The guard sighed. “All right. But I’ll be keeping a close watch on you, Laufey’s son.”

“I count on it,” Loki said bitterly.

The guard let the Captain in. The door had barely closed behind him before the Captain had closed the distance between himself and Loki. Loki flinched, preparing for a strike. But rather than the force and sting he was expecting, Loki instead found himself being engulfed in a warm embrace. The Captain wrapped his arms around Loki’s upper back, buried his nose in Loki’s neck, and held him close.

Loki stared into the distance over the Captain’s shoulder, uncertain how to react.

“That nightmare,” the Captain said. “You weren’t lying. That was real. You really thought you were under his control again.”

“Yes… that was true.”

“Bucky had the same nightmare, about Hydra. He had that same drive for revenge. He…” The Captain held him tighter. “God, Loki, I’m so sorry. All this time, I’ve been giving Bucky the benefit of a doubt because he was my friend, when you’ve been through the same thing, and you’re _here.”_

Loki blinked. “You didn’t know. It was perfectly understandable to believe that I meant you harm.” Even saying those words hurt.

“But you didn’t.” The Captain backed away to look at him, but he didn’t let go. “If I’d let you go to the Tower, if you’d destroyed that staff, the whole universe would be safer.”

“Yes…” Loki searched his eyes.

“Why?” Captain Rogers asked. “Why were you Bucky?”

“I thought… it would make the most sense, to pretend to be someone you trust, so that I could gain entrance to the Tower, and then when I’d accomplished my task, it seemed no one would really question it, if he disappeared again.”

Captain Rogers frowned. “So then, why…? Why didn’t you just leave one morning, when I was out for my morning run?”

Loki couldn’t look into those honest blue eyes as he confessed, “I thought about it. I considered leaving many, many times. But then… you weren’t anything like I expected. I had thought you noble, and upright, the pinnacle of heroism. And you are. But… there are sides of you that no one else sees, until they get to know you. And I…” Loki trailed off, his mouth ajar.

“You what?” the Captain asked quietly, his voice gentler now.

Loki had become drawn to the darkness in the Captain, the chaos, the mischief, his wit, his sense of humor, his capacity for revenge and recklessness. But even more than that, “I felt _valued_ when you looked at me. Sometimes, I would forget that it was all pretend.”

_“Was_ it all pretend?”

Loki’s eyes tracked back up. “What do you mean?”

“All those times I made you laugh. Everything you said. Was it all pretend?”

“Steve… I only knew enough about your friend for a surface-level impersonation. Knowing someone’s history doesn’t mean you know that _person._ I just hoped that the amnesia would account for any mistakes on my part.”

“So you’re saying, most of that was real.”

Loki’s eyes danced between the Captain’s. “Yes.”

The Captain leaned closer. “Then the person I’ve been missing _does_ exist.”

“I thought--” Loki frowned. “I thought that person was Bucky.”

“So did I,” Rogers said, leaning forward until their noses were almost touching.

Loki’s heart stumbled. “Wh-what are you going to do when he wakes up?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” Rogers brought his lips against Loki’s, and both of them stopped breathing.

As Rogers leaned into the kiss, Loki let his eyes slowly drift shut. He wound his arms around the Captain’s neck. He nursed at that warm, demanding mouth, which opened a little more with every kiss. Their hearts pounded side by side. Loki sighed first, followed immediately by the Captain; their sighing gave way to gasps as they pressed ever-closer together, deepening their kiss, never close enough, even when their tongues traced the back of each other’s heated mouths. Something electric simmered just under Loki’s skin, sending a charge to his groin. The Captain pressed his hips against Loki’s, closing the circuit, intensifying the electric flow.

Someone cleared their throat loudly.

Loki and Rogers broke apart, both dazed and annoyed by the intrusion.

“Captain Rogers,” Thor said with some amusement, “it is time we returned to Midgard. Shall I signal Heimdall to transport two, or three?”

Rogers glanced at Loki. “We can get him out of here?”

“He’s escaped before,” Thor said with a tiny shrug. “Who’s to say he didn’t escape again?”

Rogers held him protectively. “Won’t they just come looking for him?”

“I’m sure they have other things to worry about.” Thor smiled.

  


**Epilogue**

Champagne late-afternoon sunlight filtered through the blinds into Steve’s apartment. Loki sat comfortably on the couch, wrapped in one of their finer blankets, a gift from Stark. A classical record was nearing the end of a slow-sweet waltz. Loki flipped to the next page of his novel. He and Steve had fallen into the habit of reading them concurrently; both of them were woefully out of the loop on most pop culture references.

The apartment had been quiet all day. Loki had taken advantage of this time alone to indulge himself in a proper bath, with Asgardian oils and salts, soaps and shampoo. One of these days, he would persuade Rogers to join him.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Steve!” Bucky practically shouted as he flung the door open. “I leave you alone for three months, and you shack up with the Norse god of _chaos?”_

“Hey, Loki.” Steve smiled at him sheepishly over Bucky’s shoulder.

“Hey, Steve.” Loki politely returned his smile. He placed a bookmark into his book and smoothed the cover.

“Look,” Steve explained to Bucky, “I know it takes some getting used to, but Loki isn’t as bad as he’s made out to be.”

“Isn’t as ba-- Do you even _hear_ yourself?! What _is_ it with you and your constant attraction to putting yourself in danger? It’s almost like you’ve got a hard-on for near-death situations!”

“I wouldn’t call our relationship a ‘near-death situation,’” Loki informed him.

“You stay out of this! I’m talking to Steve! WHAT-” he rounded on Steve “-are you _thinking?!”_

“I’m thinking,” Steve replied calmly, “that you two have a lot in common.”

Bucky spluttered.

“No, hear me out-- you’ve both been alive for longer than the average human, you’ve both done things you didn’t want to do, you’ve both been in situations that were out of your control, you’ve both come after tyrants looking for revenge, and whether you like it or not, I love both of you.”

Bucky reeled. “You-- Gosh, Stevie, I’m flattered, but--”

Steve rolled his eyes. “You know what I meant.”

“You _don’t?”_ Loki asked, surprised.

“I don’t what?” Steve asked blankly.

“Love him.” Loki glanced pointedly at Bucky.

Steve closed his mouth. There was a lot going on behind his eyes.

“Wait.” Bucky glanced between the two of them. “You two aren’t just roommates? You’re--? I… Steve, I thought you were _kidding.”_

Color crept into Rogers’s cheeks.

“So, wait,” Bucky fumbled, “You… you _do_ swing that way? You’re…?”

“I believe the term is ‘bisexual,’” Loki chimed in.

“No one asked you!” Bucky barked.

“Yes,” Steve agreed. “I’m bisexual.”

“So all that time…” Bucky went from pale and confused, to looking a little broken, and then he started this unsettling, staccato laugh that kept building up momentum until he was almost sobbing.

“Bucky?” Steve stepped towards him, hand outstretched, concerned. His hand found Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky shook his head, fighting off tears. “All this time, when I was brushing you off and playing it off as a joke, flirting with you and pretending I was kidding… you mean you and I coulda been together since the _‘30s?”_

Steve blushed. “Bucky, they would have _killed_ us back then.”

“We shared an _apartment,_ Steve. No one would have known!”

Loki had a sinking feeling. This was the moment, he thought. This was the moment when he would lose Steve Rogers.

“Wait,” Steve said. “So you..? You felt that way about me, too?”

“‘Course I did.” Bucky frowned incredulously. “Have you _seen_ you?”

“Even… even when I was-?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “God, Rogers. Look at your goddamn face in the mirror sometime.”

“So, you..?” Rogers eyed him hopefully.

“What, you’re askin’ if I’m still interested? -I’m not sure if your Norse housemate would like that very much.”

Steve and Bucky both looked at Loki.

“I should go,” Loki said uncomfortably.

“No, wait!” Steve lunged at him and grabbed his wrist.

Loki and Bucky both watched Steve questioningly.

Steve eased his grip on Loki’s wrist, but didn’t let go. He faced Bucky. “I meant it: I love both of you.”

Bucky let this sink in. “So, you wanna do a three-way or somethin’?”

“Not necessarily. But I do want to be with both of you. I want you both living here, I want both of you on the battlefield with me, and at night, I want to wrap my arms around both of you-- maybe not at the same time, but-- I have feelings for _both_ of you.”

Loki was in a state of mild shock. He’d thought for sure this had been the end for him. He’d thought this had been the end of being cared for, the end of devoted looks from those kind eyes, the end of feeling safe and wanted. Yet here he was, with Steve’s warm hand still wrapped around his wrist.

Bucky spoke, breaking the silence: "I'm up for it if you're up for it."

Loki met his eyes with surprise. "You don't mind?"

Bucky shrugged. "As long as Steve is happy."

Steve rewarded them with a smile akin to the rosy sunset filtering through their window. He pulled them both close and breathed them in. 

Loki and Bucky stiffened at first, their arms touching for the first time. They shared a sidelong glance. But when Steve nuzzled them, each man closed his eyes and hugged him back.

 


End file.
